* 


,,*««^  **""'"««  *%)^ 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


<<C 


Presented  by  Mrs.  Sanford  H.  Smith. 


Nil  ml-:- 


By  Rev.  W.  H.H/ MURRAY. 


Park- Street -^^  Pulpit. 

FIRST  SERIES. 
Containing  Twenty  Sermons.    1  volume  12mo.    $2.25. 


if 

"He  is  sometimes  as  crisp  as  Phillips,  then  as  picturesque  as  Beecher;  and 
occasionally  he  approaches  the  magniiicence  of  Chapin:  and  yet  he  never 
ceases  to  be  Murray ;  and  his  strong  and  marked  individuality  stands  out  in  all 
he  says.  And  so  he  is  one  of  the  leading  preachers  of  to-day,  whose  sermons 
are  richly  worth  study,  both  for  what  they  contain  and  for  what  they  suggest. 
They  are  never  dull:  they  often  magnetize  the  reader.  The  publishers  have 
done  a  good  work  in  collecting  these  twenty  of  his  strong  and  varied  produc- 
tions into  an  attractive  volume.  They  will  richly  repay  a  reading."  —  Morning 
Star. 

"We  do  not  wonder  that  Mr.  Murray  is  a  popular  preacher;  for  he 
preaches  with  simplicity,  with  a  winning  fervor,  and  with  a  hearty  faith  in  the 
gospel  he  brings  to  accomplish  the  salvation  of  mQn.^^  —  Presbyterian  iPhila.). 


Music  -  Hall    Sermons. 

1  Volume  16mo.    $1.50. 

"  Sermons  would  recover  their  lost  reputation  were  there  many  so  vigorous 
and  fresh  as  these.  Mr.  Murray  is  certainly  a  remarkably  eloquent  preacher; 
and  his  eloquence  is  of  the  best  sort,  — that  of  good  sense,  and  just  sentiment 
fitly  and  feelingly  expressed.  He  is  master  of  a  style  singularly  clear,  pure, 
and  felicitous.  In  general,  the  literary  quality  of  the  discourse  is  uncommonly 
high,  but  is  so  without  prejudiee  to  the  directness  and  simple  cogency  proper 
to  the  orator.  There  are  passages  that  would  do  no  discredit  to  Bossuet."  — 
Boston  Commonwealth. 

"  These  sermons  strike  us  as  among  the  most  remarkable  of  the  generation. 
Mr.  Murray  has  succeeded  in  avoiding  whatever  could  offend,  without  com- 
promising a  single  fundamental  truth." —  Protestant  Churchman. 


***  For  sale  by  all  Booksellers.    Sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  o/ price,  by  the 
Publishers, 

JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  CO.,  Boston. 


Park-Street  Pulpit 


SERMONS 


PREACHEI)    BY 


WILLIAM    H.    H.^^MURRAY. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


BOSTON  : 
JAMES   R.    OSGOOD   &   COMPANY, 

(LATE   TICKNOR  &  FIELDS,  AND  FIELDS,  OSGOOD,  &  CO.) 
1872. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872, 

By  JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  CO., 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Rand,  A  very,  <5^  Co. ,  Stereotypers  and  Planters,  Boston. 


OOKTENTS. 


Topic  . — The  Organization  and  Adaiinistration  of  City  Churches,       7 

"  Be  -watchful,  and  strengthen  the  things  which  remain  that  are  ready  to 
die ;  for  I  have  not  found  thy  works  perfect  before  God."  —  Rev.  iii.  2. 

Subject.  — Charity  of  Judgment ^,       ,       ,     2S 

*'  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged."  —  Matt.  vii.  1.  , 

Subject.  —  God's  Gifts  to  Man,  and  Man's  Responsibility  as  in- 
ferred therefrom ,       ,       ,       ,     41 

"Every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift  is  from  above,  and  cometh  down 
from  the  Father  of  lights,  with  whom  is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow 
of  turning."  —  James  i.  17. 

Subject.  —  The  Danger  and  Wickedness  of  Seeming  to  be  Better 

THAN  You  REAIiLY  ARE .  .  •  .59 

*'  Moreover,  when  ye  fast,  be  not  as  the  hjrpocrites,  of  a  sad  countenance ; 
for  they  disfigure  their  faces,  that  they  may  appear  unto  men  to  fast. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you.  They  have  their  reward."— Matt.  vi.  16. 

Topic— Transition-Periods  in  Religious  Growth  and  Teachings,     79 

"  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets :  I  am  not 
come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  —  Matt.  v.  17. 

Topic— The  Two  Immortalities ,       ,     99 

•'For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself."  — 
Rom.  xiv.  7. 

Topic— Prosperity  as  Promotive  of  Christian  Growth        .       .    118 

"The  lines  are  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places."  —  Ps.  xvl.  6. 

Subject.— Knowledge  of  Christ       ..,.#..•   1S8 
"  And  to  know  the  love  of  Clirist,wliich  passeth  knowledge."— Ephes.  ill.  19. 

iii 


IV  CONTENTS. 

Subject.  —  DrvnwE  Goveknmeitt    .........   158 

"  Thy  throne  is  established  of  old."  —  Ps.  xciii.  2. 

Topic— Humanity  tjbe  Best  Proof  of  Divinity 176 

"  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them,  Go  and  show  John  again  those  things 
which  ye  do  hear  and  see :  the  blind  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame 
walk;  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear;  the  dead  are  raised 
up,  and  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them."  —  Matt.  xi.  4,  5. 

StnBjECT.— Adherence  to  Goobness  in  Principle  and  Act       .       .    196 

"Let  love  be  without  dissimulation.  Abhor  that  which  is  evil;  cleave  to 
that  which  is  good."  —  Rom.  xii.  9, 

Subject. —Ministering  to  the  Good  of  Others 212 

"  Even  as  the  Son  of  man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister, 
and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many."  —  Matt.  xx.  28. 

Subject.— Need  of  an  Atonement,  and  why  Needed       «       .       .    231 
**  "Without  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission."  —  Heb.  ix.  22. 

Subject.  — Need  of  an  Atonement,  and  why  Needed       ,       ,       ,   250 
"  Without  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission."  —  Heb.  tx.  22. 

Subject.— The  Duty  of  Christians  to  bind  the  Gospel  to  Heathen 
Lands 266 

"  The  entrance  of  Thy  words  giveth  light."  —  Ps.  cxix.  130, 

Topic  — The  Atonement:  how  Energized,  and  how  Resisted       .    285 

"  Grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  ye  are  sealed  unto  the  day  of 
redemption."  —  Ephes.  iv.  30. 


Topic— Saving  the  Lost ,       ,    302 

The  Parable  of  the  Lost  Sheep.  — Luke  xv.  3-7. 

.Subject. — Improvement  of  Spiritual  Opportunities  ....    321 

♦'  And,  while  they  went  to  buy,  the  bridegroom  came ;  and  they  that  were 
ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage ;  and  the  door  was  shut."  — 
Matt.  XXV.  10. 

Subject.  — Kindly  Affections  the  Evidence  of  True  Piety    .       ,    337 
**  Be  kindly  affectioned  one  to  another  with  brotherly  love."  — Rom.  xii.  10. 

Subject.  —Abhorrence  of  Evil ,       .356 

"  Abhor  that  which  is  evil." — Rom.  xii.  9. 


SABBATH  MO-RJVIJTO,  OCT.  8,  1871. 


SERMOK 


TOPIC.-THE  Or^GANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTRATION  OF  CITY  CHURCHES. 

"Be  ■vtatchful,  and  strengthen  the  things  which  remain  that 
ARE  ready  to  die;  for  I  have  not  found  thy  works  perfect  before 
God."— Rev.  iii.  2. 

THERE  are  two  sources  of  power  in  the  Christian 
Church ;  the  one  human,  the  other  divine.  The 
two  united,  and  acting  in  conjunction  one  with  an- 
other, represent  the  sum  total  of  those  influences  now 
at  work  among  men.  God  co-operates  with  men  to 
originate  and  estabhsh  what  is  needed  for  the  better 
energizing  of  his  merciful  intentions  toward  the  race. 
Like  two  streams,  one  of  which  has  its  head  far  up  in 
the  mountains,  while  the  other  starts  from  some  spring 
in  the  valley,  which  come  together,  and  join  their  cur- 
rent, so  the  natural  and  supernatural  are  united  in 
the  administration  of  the  Church.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  Holy  Ghost  is  manifestly  present,  quickening, 
directing,  and  convicting  not  a  few;  on  the  other, 
purely  human  agents  and  agencies  are  in  opera- 
tion. 

Of  one  of  these  two  classes  of  power  I  wish  at 
this  time  to  speak.     My  theme  is  the  "  Organization 

7 


8  OEGANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

and  Administration  of  City  Churclies ;  "  and  I  intro- 
duce the  subject  to-day,  not  because  I  feel  that  I  am 
able  to  discuss  it  exhaustively,  but  because  I  feel 
that  the  matter  should  be  brought  up  and  discussed 
by  some  one.  It  is  a  subject  of  the  deepest  interest  to 
all  Christian  men  ;  and  the  sooner  the  Church  takes  it 
up  and  studies  it,  the  better  it  will  be  for  her  own 
honor  and  those  high  interests  which  God  has  in- 
trusted to  her  keeping. 

The  first  thing  to  be  ascertained  at  the  outset  is, 
Where  does  the  converting  power  of  the  modern 
Church  lie  ?  Is  it  to  be  found  in  the  pulpit,  or  the 
pews  ?  or  jointly  in  both  ?  For  if  it  should  appear 
that  it  does  not  exist  to  the  needed  extent  where 
people  imagine  it  does,  then  would  they  look  else- 
where for  it.  If  in  the  pulpit,  then  the  organization 
and  administration  of  our  churches  should  be  entirely 
unlike  what  they  should  be  if  it  exists  outside  of  the 
pulpit.  When  the  proper  foundation  is  found,  then 
the  building  can  go  up,  —  not  before. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  formerly  the  pulpit  did 
nearly  represent  the  entire  converting  energies  of  the 
Church.  It  represented  the  human  agency  in  every 
revival.  Every  one  so  regarded  it ;  and  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  Church,  the  rules  and  methods,  the  offi- 
cial structure,  all  was  shaped  in  accordance  with  this 
idea. 

But  a  change  came.  The  situation  and  condition 
of  the  Church  were  modified.  And  I  will  give  you 
in  brief  the  history  of  these  changes,  that  you  may 
the  better  understand  the  position  of  to-day.     We  all 


OF   CITY  CHUECHES.  9 

know,  that,  in  the  beginning  of  Christianity,  every  dis- 
ciple became  an  agent  to  convert  others.  Every  con- 
vert was,  not  merely  in  name,  but  in  fact  and  practice, 
a  preacher  of  the  faith.  The  letters  which  Paul  from 
time  to  time  addressed  to  the  churches  prove  this : 
they  abound  with  directions  and  exhortations  to  the 
workers.  His  epistles,  urging  active  effort,  and  indi- 
vidual devotion  to  the  Master,  were  read  to  all  the 
churches,  and  received  by  the  members,  personally 
addressed  to  each  one.  James  took  the  same  view. 
The  great  aim  of  apostolic  effort  seemed  to  be  to 
make  workers,  —  enlist  agents  in  the  service  of  Christ. 
The  early  preachers  of  the  faith  never  labored  to 
build  up  a  hierarchy,  a  caste,  a  priesthood,  in  which 
should  be  lodged  all  power,  by  which  should  be  rep- 
resented all  converting  energies  :  they  strove  to 
make  every  member  of  the  church  active  ;  constant, 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  to  win  souls.  To  this 
both  the  teachings  and  example  of  the  apostle  alike 
tended.  Personal  activity  was  the  basis  upon  which 
the  early  Church  was  founded.  This  was  the  Gib- 
raltar of  that  faith  which  felt  itself  to  be  invincible, 
and  destined  to  rule  the  world.  Each  church  had  a 
bishop,  or  overseer :  and  the  very  name  implied  a 
body  of  laborers  under  him,  —  an  active,  earnest, 
helpful  lay-element ;  men  and  women  who  had  work 
to  do,  and  over  whom  the  bishop  or  preacher  was  in- 
stalled, as  a  colonel  over  a  regiment,  or  a  captain 
over  a  crew.  This  was  the  idea.  For  centuries  it 
was  universally  held  and  complied  with.  The  pas- 
tors directed,  and  the  churches  worked.  Then  came 
1* 


10  ORGANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

pride  and  priestly  assumption,  and  ambition  to  rule. 
These  invaded  the  churches ;  took  possession  of  the 
minds  of  the  clergy ;  and  in  order  that  a  priesthood 
might  be  built  up  in  whom  should  be  lodged  all 
power,  and  who  should  represent  all  activity,  the  lay- 
element  was  suppressed.  At  last,  the  Church  surren- 
dered :  song  and  prayer  and  exhortation  and  labor 
ceased  in  her  membership  ;  and  the  priestly  caste  held 
undisputed  possession  of  the  organization,  and  wielded 
it  for  their  own  purposes. 

Then  came  the  dark  ages,  —  a  dead  level  of  spirit- 
ual lapse  and  stagnation,  without  even  a  ripple  of 
activity  to  denote  the  existence  of  life  or  impulse. 
From  the  Stygian  wave  of  that  all-ingulfing  sea,  in 
which  all  art,  all  knowledge,  all  virtue,  sank,  and  was 
lost  to  man,  Rome  emerged  stronger,  more  cruel, 
more  tyrannous,  than  ever.  Beneath  and  aro-und  the 
feet  of  her  pontiff,  every  spiritual  function  of  the 
Church,  every  activity,  lay  chained,  slaves  to  her  will. 

No  hymn,  no  prayer,  no  exhortation,  was  heard, 
save  such  as  were  chanted  by  the  order  of  her  priests. 
Then  Luther,  raised  and  inspired  of  God,  arose.  The 
Reformation  came  ;  and  partial  liberty  was  the  result. 
I  say,  partial  liberty,  —  freedom  from  Rome,  but  not 
freedom  to  work ;  freedom  for  the  ministry,  but  not 
freedom  for  the  laymen.  They  were  still  held  in  a 
thraldom  beside  which  the  tyranny  of  man  is  as  noth- 
ing, — the  thraldom  of  custom,  the  slavery  of  prece- 
dent. As  it  is  with  woman  now,  the  lay-element 
of  the  Christian  Church  had  been  educated  into 
silence.     Centuries  of  custom  intimidated  them ;  the 


OF  CITY   CHURCHES.  11 

gag  of  a  false  timidity  choked  them.  A  priest 
had  rebelled  against  Rome,  and  given  liberty  to  the 
pulpiffe  ;  but  no  layman  was  found  to  rebel  against 
the  pulpit,  and  give  liberty  to  the  pews.  The  Refor- 
mation was  thus  radically  incomplete.  Only  one  part 
of  the  Church  was  emancipated,  and  restored  to  the 
primitive  liberty.  The  Reformation  in  Germany  left 
the  Church  a  great  way  below  the  position  in  which 
Paul  left  it. 

At  last  came  Wesley,  —  a  greater  than  Luther,  as  I 
have  often  thought.  It  was  not,  it  is  true,  the  pope  he 
opposed  :  but  he  did  oppose  and  make  war  upon  the 
same  spirit  of  assumption  of  power  in  the  ministry ;  the 
same  exclusiveness  that  made  the  Papacy  a  curse  to 
man,  and  a  hinder ance  to  the  Church.  When  Meth- 
odism arose,  the  Pauline  churches  were  reproduced 
in  history.  Every  man's  mouth  was  opened ;  the 
membership  found  their  voice  ;  and  praise  and  prayer 
and  exhortation  sounded  once  more  in  the  assembly 
of  the  saints.  The  Pauline  liberty  was  practised ; 
and  the  Phoebes  and  Dorcases  were  permitted  to  have 
an  ecclesiastical  existence  and  mention. 

My  friends,  I  feel  like  pausing  here  to  make  your  ac- 
knowledgments and  mine  to  John  Wesley,  and  those 
co-laborers  of  his,  whose  piety  and  sanctified  resolution 
gave  to  the  membership  of  the  churches  what  the  Ref- 
ormation by  Luther  gave  to  the  ministry,  —  liberty  to 
speak  and  work  as  the  Spirit  of  God  moved  them.  This 
is  the  age  of  lay-effort,  the  day  of  spiritual  liberty : 
and,  as  we  stand  bathed  in  the  light  of  it,  let  us  recall 
the  early  dawn ;  let  us  remember  the  obloquy  those 


12  OEGANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

men  endured  by  whose  prayers  and  labors  the  liberty 
and  light  came.  Let  no  one  call  them  Methodists. 
Methodism  cannot  claim  them.  The  Lutheran  Church 
might  as  well  endeavor  to  monopolize  Luther.  They 
were  God's  gifts  to  the  race.  They  belong  to  the 
Church  universal ;  they  belong  to  mankind.  Place 
their  busts  in  what  niche  you  please  ;  carve  on  the 
tablet  what  record  you  may :  I  bring  my  leaf  of  lau- 
rel, my  sprig  of  bay  ;  and  the  suffrage  of  the  world 
says,  "  These  men  belong  not  to  any  denomination ; 
they  belong  to  the  whole  Church  of  God :  his  laurel 
and  his  bay,  Congregationalist  though  he  be,  must 
be  woven  in  their  wreath." 

You  can  trace  the  great  success  of  Methodism  to 
the  fact  that  it  has  duplicated  the  Pauline  energy  in 
the  organization  of  their  churches.  It  has  had  but 
one  motto,  —  the  utilization  of  all  spiritual  forces. 
If  a  man  could  pray  or  sing  or  exhort,  he  was  allowed 
to  do  it.  If  a  saint  chanced  to  be  of  the  female  gen- 
der, it  did  not  consign  her  to  the  limbo  of  nonenti- 
ties, and  gag  her  mouth  with  a  perverted  and  mis- 
applied text  of  Scripture  :  it  gave  her  full  permis- 
sion to  serve  the  Master  as  he  b}^  nature  and 
grace  had  qualified  her.  It  has  found  a  place  for 
every  man,  and  a  man  for  every  place.  That  is  the 
whole  philosophy  of  the  success  of  Methodism.  It 
has  been  courageous.  It  has  not  been  afraid  of 
change,  of  innovation.  It  has  not  been  afraid  of 
"  new  methods."  It  has  not  been  ashamed  of  its 
poverty,  nor  of  the  ignorance  of  its  itinerant  preach- 
ers, which  has  been  so  much  emphasized  by  ministerial 


OF   CITY  CHURCHES.  13 

purists.  A  great  many  Congregational  churches  are 
in  danger  of  dying  because  of  their  learned  pulpits. 
They  are  carrying  too  much  theology,  and  too  little 
active  piety,  to  live.  They  are  in  the  condition  of 
the  patient  who  was  told  by  his  physici-an,  that,  in  order 
to  live,  he  must  have  his  head  cut  off.  The  reason 
why  I  so  often  refer  with  gratitude  to  the  Methodist 
Church  is,  because  it  has  done  so  much  to  bring  out 
and  set  to  work  the  lay-element.  It  has  reproduced 
the  apostolic  economy  of  moral  forces.  It  has  re- 
affirmed the  right  of  woman  to  a  religious  character, 
and  to  all  those  exercises  of  mind  and  soul  which 
make  such  a  character  possible ;  and  made  the  pre- 
diction safe,  that  she  who  gave  unto  Christ  whatever 
of  human  nature  he  had,  bringing  him  forth  as  a  son 
without  a  father,  will  be  the  foremost  to  advance  his 
blessed  cause,  and  the  first  to  welcome  him  at  his  sec- 
ond coming  in  power.  This  is  why  I  honor  it.  May 
that  Lord  who  raised  it  up,  and  entered  it  as  a  wedge 
under  the  iron-like  band  of  prejudice  and  ecclesiastical 
tyranny,  preserve  it  from  that  pride  and  timidity  which 
would  blunt  its  edge  and  destroy  its  coherence,  and 
drive  it  well  home,  to  the  cleaving  of  whatever  puts  a 
pressure  upon  the  functions  of  the  Church,  and  the 
liberty  of  the  soul  in  its  longings  for  God  and  its 
labors  for  man ! 

I  do  not  wish  to  be  understood  as  saying  that  the 
lay-element,  as  a  converting  force,  is  as  yet  fully  de- 
veloped even  in  the  Methodist  Church ;  and,  if  not 
in  it,  far  less  is  it  in  the  churches  of  our  denomina- 
tion.    We  have  approached  so  far  toward  liberty  as 


14  ORGANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

to  doubt  the  divinity  of  our  slavery.  That,  at  least, 
is  sure.  The  time  was,  in  this  country,  when  none 
but  the  minister  could  conduct  prayer-meetings,  and 
none  save  the  deacons  were  good  enough  to  pray 
and  exhort  in  them  ;  nor  even  they,  unless  specially 
sanctified  by  the  invitation  of  the  pastor.  The  time 
was,  when  the  sex  would  have  been  scandalized  if  a 
Christian  mother  should  have  dared  to  lead  in  prayer 
at  the  family-altar,  or  invoke  the  divine  blessing  at 
the  table.  We  have  got  some  ways  beyond  that.  If 
any  one  desires  to  know  where  the  movement,  begun 
in  Wesley,  and  which  has  lifted  and  propelled  the 
Church  as  the  incoming  wave  lifts  and  heaves  a  ship 
forv:^ard,  will  stop,  he  can  easily  ascertain.  Its  logical 
conclusion,  and  to  which  the  next  generation  will 
come,  is  this,  —  that  every  converted  person,  white 
or  black,  male  or  female,  has  the  inalienable  right  to 
serve  God  and  man  in  whatever  way  the  Author  of 
being,  and  the  God  of  all  grace,  has  made  possible. 
Voice  and  hand  and  heart  shall  speak  and  labor  and 
beat  as  the  Spirit  shall  quicken  them,  unhindered  by 
any.  That  is  what  we  are  coming  to ;  that  is  the 
shore  toward  which  the  current  sets.  On  it,  when 
reached,  the  Church  will  stand  in  that  wide  liberty  to 
love  and  work  which  she  enjoyed  in  her  early  prime. 
Swift  be  the  coming  of  that  blessed  day ! 

Now,  the  introduction  of  this  element  of  force,  the 
lay-element,  into  the  Church,  has  brought,  and  is 
bringing,  great  changes  to  it.  Its  entire  administra- 
tion is  affected  by  it.  It  not  only  directs  the  general 
activities  of  the  Church,  not  only  modifies  the  opin- 


OF   CITY   CHUECHES.  15 

ions  of  the  membership  ;  but  it  has  vastly  modified 
both  the  manner  and  the  matter  of  the  instruction 
given  it.  Take  this  matter  of  preaching  as  an  illus- 
tration. Imagine  an  audience  without  a  single  sab- 
bath-school teacher  in  it ;  without  a  single  young 
man  who  ever  assisted  at  a  prayer-meeting,  or  ever 
expected  to  assist ;  without  a  female  prayer-meeting, 
or  a  benevolent  sewing-society ;  where  a  missionary 
box  or  society  was  an  unheard-of  thing ;  where  a 
newspaper  was  a  wonder,  and  a  luxury  enjoyed  only 
by  a  dozen  families,  —  picture,  I  say,  such  a  congrega- 
gation,  and  conceive  how  different  it  would  be  for  me 
to  minister  to  it  from  what  it  is  to  minister  to  you. 
There  I  should  be  a  teacher  before  his  pupils  :  here 
I  am  a  teacher  among  teachers.  Such  a  congregation 
I  should  teach  for  their  own  good :  you  I  teach  for  the 
good  of  others.  They  would  be  only  recipients  :  you 
are  recipients  only  that  you  may  become  better 
agents.  You  see  the  difference.  You  see  why  preach- 
ing has  changed  in  our  churches.  A  city  church  is 
a  spiritual  normal  school,  —  a  place  where  religious 
teachers  are  taught,  where  men  and  women  are  pre- 
pared and  furnished  with  the  matter  and  method 
of  instruction  to  others. 

Observe,  also,  that  this  state  of  things  is  becoming 
more  and  more  prevalent  year  by  year.  As  the  lay- 
element  is  more  and  more  developed  ;  as  mission- 
schools  and  Bethels  and  charity-boards  and  Bible- 
readers  multiply  in  our  cities  ;  as  the  spirit  of  individ- 
ual effort  becomes  universal,  and  the  organization  of 
the  spiritual  forces  of  the  Church,  as  represented  by 


16  ORGANIZATION  AND   ADMINISTRATION 

the  membership,  more  and  more  complete,  —  the  more 
will  the  preacher's  functions  be  affected,  until,  at  last, 
under  every  pastor  will  be  an  organization  of  work- 
ers, banded  together  for  work,  each  member  feeling 
a  personal  responsibility  for  the  world's  conversion, 
manifold  activities  finding  manifold  channels  of  ex- 
pression ;  and  he  will  be,  as  his  predecessors  in 
apostolic  times,  truly  and  in  fact  a  bishop,  or  over- 
seer. 

What  burdens  the  pulpit  to-day  is  not  the  amount 
of  pages  that  the  preacher  has  to  write,  but  the  charac- 
ter of  the  composition.  Formerly  the  preaching  was 
largely  expository  and  doctrinal,  and  the  preacher 
walked  from  3^ear  to  year  around  the  same  circle  of 
theological  discussion  ;  but  now,  owing  to  the  de- 
velopment of  the  lay-element  in  the  Church,  a  thou- 
sand and  one  topics  of  vital  interest  to,  and  vitally 
affecting,  the  Church,  must  needs  be  examined  and 
discussed.  How  to  restrain,  and  yet  not  to  offend ; 
how  to  stimulate  and  cheer  on  without  encouraging 
rashness  ;  how  to  adjust  the  new  to  the  old,  so  as 
to  prevent  destruction  to  the  one,  and  friction  to  the 
other ;  how  to  keep  at  the  head  of  the  radicals  with- 
out forfeiting  the  confidence  of  the  conservatives,  — 
these  and  many  other  problems  are  tasking  the  pul- 
pits of  the  land  to  their  utmost  capacity.  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  say,  that  in  order  to  conduct  the  admin- 
istration of  any  prominent  city  church  successfully, 
so  as  to  meet  either  public  expectation  or  the  demands 
of  the  cause,  one  needs  to  possess  rare  powers  of  tact, 
judgment,  and  general  ability.     He  must,  in  addition 


OF   CITY   CHURCHES.  17 

to  the  qualities  tliat  make  a  preacher,  possess  those 
higher  qualities  that  denote  a  statesman,  —  the  abili- 
ty to  both  anticipate  and  provide  for  future  contingen- 
cies. 

The  trouble  is,  that,  at  the  present  time,  the  Church 
has  not  really  accepted  the  position  which  it  is  plain 
she  must  sooner  or  later  take.  We  are  in  a  transition 
state,  not  from  oiie  form  of  doctrinal  belief  to  anoth- 
er, but  from  one  form  of  administration  to  another. 
The  work  to  be  done  is  beyond  the  capacity  of  the 
Church,  under  her  present  methods  of  service.  To 
illustrate  :  The  ministry  is  in  the  position  of  a  manu- 
facturer, who  began  with  one  shop,  and  a  business 
to  which  he  could  be  the  sole  and  adequate  overseer ; 
but  now  his  business  has  so  expanded,  branch  after 
branch  has  been  added,  shop  after  shop  builded,  that 
he  cannot  adequately  oversee  it  alone,  and  yet  can  find 
no  one  to  whom  to  intrust  the  management  of  the  sev- 
eral departments.  He  does  the  best  he  can,  —  works 
day  and  night,  feeling  all  the  while  that  no  such  returns 
are  coming  in  as  the  business  warrants.  The  establish- 
ment, in  point  of  fact,  has  no  thorough  supervision :  it 
is  running  itself,  the  main  reliance  being  on  the  indus- 
try and  knowledge  of  the  workmen.  Take  this  church 
and  congregation,  for  instance  :  there  is  only  one  offi- 
cer that  really  has  charge  of  any  thing :  I  refer  to  the 
superintendent  of  the  sabbath  school.  That  is  in 
good  hands,  and  gives  the  pastor  no  uneasiness.  But, 
outside  of  this,  the  church  is  not  connected  officially 
with  any  branch  of  spiritual  industry.  We  have  no 
board  for  local  charities,  none  for  visitation  of  the 


18  ORGANIZATION    AND   AD3IINISTRATI0N 

sick  and  the  transient,  none  for  mission-enterprises, 
none  for  direction  and  leadership  of  the  young,  none 
for  literary  and  social  entertainment :  all  these 
branches  of  effort,  so  far  as  developed,  are  really 
running  themselves.  There  is  to  them  no  responsible 
head  with  whom  the  pastor  can  consult,  from  whom 
he  can  receive  reports  necessary  to  his  own  enlighten- 
ment and  direction.  Officially  we  are  in  the  same 
position  as  when  no  lay-element,  no  lay-activity,  exist- 
ed in  the  church.  Officially  we  ignore  the  fact,  that 
the  last  seventy  years  have  brought  any  change  either 
to  our  duty  or  our  opportunities. 

For  one,  I  am  convinced,  after  a  careful  examina- 
tion of  the  entire  question,  that  every  city  church  of 
any  considerable  size  and  prominence  should  enlarge 
its  present  board  of  officers  to  the  number  of  twelve, 
and  put  each  at  the  head  of  some  one  particular  branch 
of  spiritual  activity.  Each  should  have,  and  be  held 
responsible  for,  his  department,  as  the  superintendent 
of  the  sabbath  school  is  now  for  it.  Each  should  be 
elected  because  of  his  peculiar  fitness  for  the  position 
the  church  elects  him  to  fill ;  and  the  twelve  should 
constitute  the  official  board  of  the  church,  submitting 
monthly  or  quarterly  their  reports  to  the  pastor  and 
the  church.  The  wisdom  of  such  an  organization 
would,  I  am  persuaded,  be  speedily  manifest  in  the 
increased  results  for  Christ,  and  the  reputation  and 
usefulness  of  the  church.  I  submit  this  suggestion  to 
yoitr  prayerful  consideration. 

It  appears  to  me  also,  that,  in  our  larger  and  more 
intelhgent  churches,  some  other  agency  than  the  pul- 


OF   CITY   CHURCHES.  19 

pit  must  be  employed  in  order  to  meet  the  necessity 
of  more  accurate  and  complete  knowledge  of  the 
Bible,  and  of  the  best  methods  of  evangelistic  labor. 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  pulpit  of  this  city,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  is  doing  all  that  it  possibly  can  to 
meet  ike  demand  now  existing ;  and  yet  the  demand 
is  not  met.  There  is  a  felt  need  in  this  church  for  a 
course  of  lectures  upon  the  doctrines,  a  course  upon 
the  relation  of  the  Bible  to  science,  a  course  upon  the 
best  methods  of  reaching  and  converting  the  masses, 
and  a  full  discussion  upon  "  especial  means  of  grace," 
or  how  to  conduct  an  anxious  soul  to  Christ.  These 
by  no  means  exhaust  the  list :  they  serve  rather  to 
hint  at  the  vast  field  of  investio^ation  and  instruction 
which  the  pulpit  cannot  at  present,  under  the  now- 
existing  order  of  Sunday  services,  occupy.  The 
Church  long  since,  and  rightly,  adopted  the  motto  of 
"  An  educated  and  trained  ministry ;  "  but  the  very 
same  reasons  which  make  a  trained  ministry  a  neces- 
sity, now  compel  us  to  educate  and  train  the  lay-ele- 
ment. The  education  needed  is  of  such  a  character, 
that  the  ordinary  x^ulpit  ministrations  cannot  give  it. 
You  might  as  well  say  that  a  young  man  can  be  fitted 
for  the  ministry  b}^  sermons  from  the  pulpit,  as  that 
sabbath-school  teachers,  and  other  lay- workers  of  a 
church,  can  be  prepared,  without  other  instruction,  for 
their  labors.  Either  the  services  of  the  sabbath  must 
be  modified  so  as  to  permit  the  pastors  to  preach  less, 
and  teach  more  ;  or  else  an  assistant  must  be  employed, 
to  whom  the  department  of  rudimental  instruction  in 
doctrinal  knowledge  and  the  ways    and   means    of 


20  ORGANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTRATION 

evangelization  shall  be  given.  One  thing  we  must 
not  ignore  :  God  has  raised  up  a  vast  resource  of  con- 
verting power  in  the  Church.  The  membership  is 
full  of  untrained,  undeveloped,  unorganized  force. 
The  ministry  no  longer  represents  the  agents  for 
Christ :  a  vast  amount  of  unused  material  lies  around 
on  all  sides.  The  old  methods  of  church  govern- 
ment and  administration  do  not  utilize  these ;  and  God 
will  hold  us  responsible,  if,  by  our  lethargy  or  pre- 
judice, these  talents  lie  longer  buried.  Already  the 
charge  is  made,  that  the  Church  does  not  give  em- 
ployment to  its  members  ;  that  it  is  unwieldy  and 
water-logged  ;  that  it  has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  men 
who  are,  neither  in  sympathy  nor  knowledge,  up  with 
the  age  ;  and  that  other  organizations  must  be  relied 
on  to  do  the  Master's  work.  For  one,  I  mean  to  wash 
my  hands  of  all  responsibility  in  the  matter :  I  mean 
to  do  all  I  may  to  put  the  Church  in  such  a  position, 
that  any  other  organization  shall  be  seen  to  be  super- 
fluous ;  in  such  a  position,  that  every  gift  of  nature 
and  grace  in  the  membership  shall  be  utilized,  and  so 
tliat  there  shall  be  an  appointed  and  honored  place  in 
which  every  member  may  serve  the  Lord. 

Of  one  thing  I  am  persuaded,  —  that  no  efficient 
organization  will  ever  be  made  in  our  churches  until 
the  departmental  rule  is  adopted.  Great  enterprises 
cannot  be  carried  on  for  God,  any  more  than  for  man, 
with  every  thing  at  loose  ends.  In  religion,  as  repre- 
sented by  the  experience  and  duty  of  the  churches, 
we  find  every  thing, —  from  the  sublime  in  speculation 
and  faith  to  the  homeliest  matter-of-fact  detail-work. 


OF   CITY   CHURCHES.  21 

Like  the  angels  in  story,  we  feed  the  hungry  with  our 
eyes  fastened  on  the  stars.  System  is  not  less  valu- 
able in  spiritual  than  in  financial  matters.  As  things 
are  now,  there  is  no  assortment  or  direction,  or  econ- 
omy of  force,  by  the  churches.  The  pastor  and  sab- 
bath-school superintendent  are  the  only  members  who 
really  know  what  is  expected  of  them.  Whoever 
works  at  all,  works  at  will,  —  when,  where,  and  how 
he  pleases.  There  is  no  discrimination  touching  spirit- 
ual gifts :  you  find  a  man  teaching  a  sabbath-school 
class  of  seven  who  should  be  preaching  to  seven  hun- 
dred, and  another  preaching  to  seven  hundred  who 
should  be  in  a  sabbath-school  class.  The  Church  ex- 
erts no  wise,  controlling  direction  over  her  member- 
ship in  matters  Avhich  should  be  objects  of  constant 
and  prayerful  attention.  Even  her  deacons  are  not 
appointed  to  any  work.  The  deaconate  is  nothing 
in  our  time  but  an  office  without  a  duty  :  it  is  looked 
upon  as  an  honor,  and  men  are  elected  to  it  as  to  a  rank, 
not  a  service ;  and  hence  it  is  given  to  them  as  a  re- 
ward, or  a  sort  of  acknowledgment  by  the  Church  that 
they  are  good,  inoffensive  men,  whose  record  is  unim- 
peachable, and  whose  faces  at  the  communion  will 
suggest  nothing  unpleasant  to  the  participants.  The 
fact  is,  the  Church  is  as  ill-conditioned  for  her  work 
as  an  ancient  runner  would  have  been  who  entered 
the  race,  where  the  whole  world  was  to  run  for  the 
prize,  with  his  vestment  ungirded,  and  sandals  un- 
laced. Her  very  efforts  to  run  only  impede  her  the 
more.  She  is  caught  and  tangled  and  tripped  by  her 
exertions.     Her  very  zeal  and  eagerness  hinder  her. 


22  OEGANIZATION  AND  ADMINISTEATION 

But  divide  the  field  of  duty  as  felt  by  the  Church 
into  sections,  introduce  the  system  of  departments 
into  her  organization,  elect  a  capable  man  to  the 
head  and  chief  direction  of  each  department,  canvass 
the  membership  for  the  proper  class  of  talents  to  work 
in  each,  and  order  at  once  springs  out  of  confusion, 
zeal  out  of  lethargy,  and  the  Church  becomes  efficient, 
and  an  honor  to  the  piety  of  the  land. 

There  is  one  other  point  I  would  suggest  as  worthy 
your  attention  :  I  refer  to  the  relation  of  the  churches 
to  such  as  profess  to  love  the  Lord  Jesus. 

There  is  a  feeling  extant,  that  no  one  is  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  Church  unless  he  is  morally  certain 
that  he  will  "  sustain  himself,"  or  "  run  well  "  as  the 
phrase  is.  If  a  weak,  wavering,  ill-instructed  convert 
applies  for  admission,  the  point  is  often  raised,  that 
he  will  not  "  hold  out ;  "  and  he  is  voted  up  or  voted 
down  as  the  chances  for  or  against  this  supposition 
balance  the  scale.  My  friends,  I  do  not  like  this  way 
of  treating  such  cases.  That  the  "  weak  in  the 
faith"  were  to  be  received,  it  is  evident  Paul  never 
doubted ;  for  he  gave  directions  how  they  were  to  be 
received.  I  love  to  think  of  the  Church  as  a  refuge 
for  the  pursued;  a  shelter  to  which  they  can  run 
when  chased  by  passion  and  appetite  ;  yea,  a  shelter 
of  guardian  hands  and  loving  hearts.  The  Church 
is  a  fold,  where  the  weak  and  sick  lambs  find  warmth 
and  protection ;  where  those  who  have  wandered  on 
the  mountains  of  their  sins,  and  bear  the  marks  of 
the  wolf  on  their  throats,  come  panting,  and  stained 
with  blood,  and  have  their  wounds  dressed  and  healed. 


OF   CITY  CHXJUCHES.  28 

So  far  as  I  represent  this  Church,  it  is  and  must  be  a 
life-boat  to  the  drowning,  a  shield  for  the  timid  and 
the  weak,  a  well  of  water  for  the  thirsty,  bread  for 
the  hungry,  charity  for  the  fallen,  and  helpful  love  for 
those  ready  to  perish.  I  have  no  idea  I  shall  ever 
be  disgraced  because  I  help  the  undeserving,  —  am 
occasionally  deceived,  —  am  kind  to  some  who  turn 
and  smite  me,  —  am  ready  to  incur  whatever  risk 
there  lies  in  doing  one's  duty.  What  cannot  hurt 
his  followers,  God  will  see  shall  not  hurt  his  Church. 
Why,  the  voice  of  one  who  saw  Christ  only  in  the 
dimness  of  vision ;  who  realized  him  not  as  we,  — 
through  history  and  the  quickening  of  the  Spirit,  — 
but  through  the  perspective  of  faith  alone,  —  the 
voice  of  Isaiah  rebukes  the  faltering  of  modern  cau- 
tion :  "  Ho '  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to 
the  waters."  The  conditions  of  membership  to  this 
Church  are  the  scriptural  conditions,  —  "  repentance 
and  faith."  The  sacrament-table  is  not  ours  ;  it  is  the 
Lord's  :  he  spreads  it,  and  not  we  ;  he  invites  you  to 
it,  and  not  we  ;  he  imposes  the  terms,  and  not  we. 
You  who  have  repented  of  your  sins,  you  who  trust 
in  the  Lord  Jesus  as  your  Redeemer, — you  are  his 
children,  his  followers,  his  invited  guests.  Weak 
or  strong,  stable  or  fickle,  warm  or  cold,  a  child  of 
many  years  or  only  of  a  day,  —  the  table  and  the 
feast  are  for  you  ;  and  no  human  authority  can  right- 
fully keep  you  from  it. 

Somewhere  ahead  of  us  is  a  day  of  moral  victory 
and  universal  peace.  The  past  reverberates  with 
cannon  :  but  the  future  is  resonant  with  the  chime  of 


24  ORGANIZATION  OF  CITY    CHURCHES. 

many  bells,  and  they  play  in  perfect  tune  ceaselessly. 
By  and  by  we  shall  come  and  stand  beneath  the  dome 
in  which  they  hang ;  and  as  we  hear  them  played  on 
by  invisible  hands,  their  notes  beating  through  the 
air  like  pulses,  and  as  our  bosoms  heave  to  their 
swelling  and  throbbing,  and  all  our  faculties  are 
lifted  to  ecstasy,  then  I  hope,  I  expect,  to  see  written 
around  the  majestic  dome  in  which  the  bells  of  peace 
are  swinging,  in  lines  of  living  light,  these  words : 
"  The  Church  of  the  Living  God." 


SABBATH  MOKKIKG,  OCT.  15,  1871. 


SERMON. 


SUBJECT. -CHARITY  OF  JUDGMENT. 
"Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged."  —  Matt,  vii.-l. 

IN  one  sense,  the  result  of  Christianity  is  to  cause 
men  to  pronounce  judgments.  Whatever  edu- 
cates a  person  into  a  higher  knowledge  of  and  sensi- 
tiveness to  right  and  wrong,  whatever  opens  his  eyes 
to  the  evil  in  the  world  and  the  hatefulness  of  it, 
whatever  makes  the  unlovely  and  coarse  and  vicious 
in  character  to  be  recognized  as  such,  must  quicken 
the  judicial  element  in  men,  and  cause  them  to  feel 
and  speak  the  proper  condemnation.  All  this,  and 
much  more  in  the  same  direction,  Christianity  does. 
When  the  Spirit,  whose  office-work  is  to  enlighten 
the  mind  and  quicken  the  conscience,-  enters  the 
soul,  and  works  therein  mightily,  sin  and  sinfulness 
appear  in  their  real  character.  Vice,  washed  of  its 
rouge,  and  stripped  of  its  veil,  stands  forth  in  all 
its  deformity,  the  coarseness  of  its  expression,  the 
.ugly  viciousness  of  its  features,  clearly  seen.  And 
so  far  as  men  become  holy  are  they  made  critical. 
Repugnance  at  what  is  unseemly  is  felt,  indignation 

2  25 


26  CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

experienced  ;  and  their  natures  rise  up  in  the  presence 
of  evil  with  the  port  and  gesture  of  an  insulted  and 
enraged  king  confronting  his  foes. 

This  is  not  the  "  judging  "  that  the  Saviour,  in  the 
words  of  the  text,  warns  his  followers  against.  Moral 
discrimination  is  inseparably  connected  with  moral 
purity,  and  its  exercise  legitimate ;  and  Christ  never 
desired,  much  less  commanded,  that  it  be  otherwise. 

I  will  call  your  attention  to  two  considerations  that 
will  throw  light  on  this  passage.  I  will  try  to  put 
you  at  Christ's  standpoint,  that  you  may  see  things 
just  as  he  saw  them,  and  understand  the  motive 
that  prompted  him  to  say,  "  Judge  not,  lest  ye  be 
judged." 

In  the  first  place,  then,  Christ  knew  man.  He  was 
familiar  with  human  nature.  He  knew  the  prevail- 
ing tendencies  of  the  human  heart,  and  all  the  strong 
tides  of  feeling  and  impulse  that  set  in  and  out  of  it. 
He  knew  all  the  prejudice  and  passion  and  bitterness 
and  bigotry,  the  hotness  of  temper,  and  the  lurking 
censoriousness,  in  man.  He  knew,  that,  from  the  time 
Cain  smote  Abel,  violence  and  cruelty  had  not  lacked 
exponents.  Smiting  and  smiters  were  everywhere. 
The  opposite  of  love,  of  tenderness,  of  charity,  of  for- 
bearance, of  patience,  was  all  around  him.  Human 
nature  was  cruel,  unjust,  devilish.  He  saw  all  this, 
I  say ;  and  seeing  it,  understanding  how  wicked  and 
unlike  himself  it  was,  he  rebuked  it.  It  is  the  natural 
censoriousness  of  human  nature,  then,  the  harsh,  un- 
charitable element  in  man,  that  this  command  forbids 
and  condemns. 


CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT.  27 

Again :  Christ,  at  the  time  he  gave  this  charge  to 
his  disciples,  was  surrounded  by  foes.  He  was  him- 
self experiencing  the  injustice  he  forbade.  The  Phari- 
sees, the  scribes,  the  Sadducees,  and  all  who  were  proud 
and  unamiable,  were  swarming  around  him  like  hornets, 
and  stinging  him  with  their  poisoned  insults  and  sus- 
picions and  cunning  interrogations.  Without  reason, 
without  grounds,  without  evidence,  nay,  against  all 
these,  unjustly,  and  without  charity,  they  were  con- 
demning him.  It  was  in  the  very  teeth  of  such  a 
whirlwind  of  misrepresentation  and  abuse  that  he 
lifted  up  this  injunction  like  a  strong  column  of 
granite.  The  circumstances  with  which  he  was  sur- 
rounded emphasized  the  injunction.  Out  of  his  own 
direful  experience  came  forth  this  exhortation  to 
charity.  It  was  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Behold,  all  you 
who  are  my  disciples,  how  men  abuse  me !  Observe 
their  censoriousness,  their  harshness,  their  injustice. 
With  no  knowledge  of  my  motives,  my  mission,  or  my 
nature,  see  how  they  sit  in  judgment  upon  me  !  They 
make  of  their  pride  and  vanity,  their  egotism  and  sus- 
piciousness, a  supreme  court,  and  condemn  me.  Do 
not  any  of  you,  my  followers,  ever  dare  to  do  toward 
each  other  or  any  human  being  what  these  do  toward 
me,  or  you  shall  be  sharers  in  their  sin.  Judge  not, 
lest  ye  be  judged." 

My  friends,  there  are  not  a  few  to-day,  in  and  out 
of  Christ's  Church,  who  are  very  like  those  whose 
judgment  of  people  was  harsh  and  cruel  when  the 
Lord  uttered  the  words  of  the  text.  Human  nature 
is  as  unamiable  now  as  when  he  lived  on  the  earth. 


28  CHAEITY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

Every  third  man  you  meet  has  a  stone  in  his  hand 
to  throw  at  some  one.  Many  of  these  are  professed 
Christians.  They  are  perhaps  honest ;  that  is,  not 
consciously  malicious.  I  should  not  for  one  dare  to 
question  their  piety  ;  but  they  are  bigoted,  intolerant, 
and  wofully  lacldng  in  tenderness,  —  that  divinest 
characteristic  of  Jesus.  They  exemplify  the  severe 
virtues  of  Christianity,  to  the  almost  total  exclusion 
of  the  milder  graces.  Had  they  lived  in  the  age  of 
Jonah,  they  would  have  been  excellent  heralds  to 
have  sent  down  to  Nineveh.  They  would  not  have 
flinched  from  hurling  the  needed  malediction  against 
its  grossness  and  wickedness.  They  would  have  set 
the  edge  of  their  censure  against  the  swarming  and 
cursing  mob  as  a  scythe  is  set  against  a  field  of  bul- 
rushes. But  woe  to  the  thief  on  the  cross,  to  the 
recreant  Peter,  to  the  poor  woman  whom  the  Phari- 
sees were  so  eager  to  stone,  if  brought  into  their 
presence  for  judgment !  They  are  men  and  women 
who  seem  absolutely  incapable  of  exercising  mercy. 
Their  bosoms  are  strangers  to  such  divine  sentiment. 
They  cannot  overlook  a  failing,  forgive  a  fault,  or 
understand  that  virtue  may  exist  with  weakness.  A 
branch  is  an  emblem  of  peace  ;  but,  strip  it  of  its 
twigs  and  leaves,  and  you  have  a  rod,  —  the  emblem 
of  chastisement.  So  take  from  Christianity  its  mild 
graces,  its  forgiving  tempers,  and  its  charitable  ten- 
dencies, and  you  entirely  change  its  character,  making 
it  seem  what  it  is  not.  Now,  purity  is  not  judicial ; 
it  is  not  warlike  :  its  symbol  —  a  dove  —  is  the  most 
harmless  bird  that  flies.     A  person  may  be  intensely 


CHARITY  OP  JUDGMENT.  29 

earnest  in  his  Christian  life  and  convictions,  and  yet 
not  be  intolerant.  Intolerance  is  no  sign  of  piety, 
though  it  may  be  of  earnestness.  And,  as  I  con- 
ceive, those  Christians  who  make  themselves  shaip- 
worded  censors  of  other  people's  foibles,  who  seize 
every  opportunity  to  inveigh  against  the  habits  and 
customs  of  brethren  which  happen  to  run  counter  to 
their  views,  who  have  no  mercy  and  no  hope  for  the 
fallen  and  the  falling,  do  not  act  as  Christ  would  have 
them  do. 

And  now,  in  further  enforcement  of  the  subject,  I 
urge  three  considerations.  First,  that  our  ignorance 
of  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  those  who  err 
compels  us  to  charity  of  judgment. 

If  a  man  knew  the  strength  of  the  temptation,  and 
the  condition,  physical  and  mental,  of  the  tempted,  he 
might  estimate  correctly  the  real  guilt  of  the  criminal. 
To  every  error  and  misdeed  there  is  a  cause.  This 
cause  may  lie  in  the  depravity  of  the  heart,  or  in  the 
character  of  one's  surroundings,  or  in  both.  Some 
ships  are  wrecked  through  inherent  weakness  of  tim- 
ber, some  by  bad  pilotage,  and  some^by  the  irresisti- 
ble power  of  tempest.  There  are  sins  of  premedi- 
tation, —  gross,  wilful,  deliberate.  Direct  and  heavy 
be  the  stroke  of  our  condemnation  on  these !  But 
there  are  also  lapses  from  virtue,  indiscretions,  errors, 
and  falls,  not  wilful,  not  deliberate.  The  blood  in  us 
is  feverish ;  and  gusts  of  temper,  and  hot  impulses, 
sweep  and  surge  unbidden  through  us.  We  are  the 
embodiment  of  contradictions.  We  were  born,  it  may 
be,  from  the  commingling  of   contrary  or  hostile  ele- 


30  CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

ments.  The  union  of  diverse  bloods  begot  commo- 
tion. The  mother  in  us  can  barely  tolerate  the  father. 
Hence  internal  strife,  fierce  grappling,  and  warfare  ; 
hence,  too,  contradictions  in  conduct,  and  widely  dif- 
ferent phases  of  life,  in  the  same  man.  I  merely  men- 
tion these  things :  I  make  no  attempt  to  analyze  or 
to  harmonize  them.  As  existing  facts,  I  remark  upon 
them.  That  they  lead  the  thinker  into  a  land  shad- 
owy and  indistinct  proves  nothing  to  their  disfavor. 
As  you  draw  near  to  first  causes,  everywhere  you 
enter  into  mystery.  The  mists  and  vapors  which 
swathed  the  new-born  world  served  to  curtain  the 
creative  energies  and  instruments  from  inquisitive 
eyes.  Upon  my  mind,  as  it  sits  in  judgment  upon 
men,  these  thoughts  have  great  influence.  The 
knowledge  of  my  ignorance  makes  me  hesitate  :  it 
mitigates  my  condemnation.  Men  are  both  unfortu- 
nate and  guilty.  Some  think  it  orthodox  to  publish 
the  guilt,  and  disbelieve  the  misfortune.  Well,  that  is 
one  way.  There  is  some  profit  in  it.  I  often  think 
half  our  virtue  comes  from  our  condemning  vice. 
The  stronger  the  pendulum  swings,  the  farther  it  re- 
acts. Nevertheless,  friends,  all  the  misfortunes  of 
life  cannot  well  be  physical.  Cannot  the  mind  be 
diseased  as  truly  as  the  body  ?  If  the  intellect  errs 
at  times,  acting  mathematically,  why  may  it  not  err 
when  it  acts  spiritually  ?  Few  men  could  make  an 
astronomical  calculation  in  the  midst  of  battle. 
Should  it  be  a  matter  of  wonder,  then,  if,  wrapped  in  a 
wilder  conflict,  fighting  with  powers  and  principali- 
ties, a  man  should  lose  for  a  moment  the  sight  of  stars 


CHAEITY   OF  JUDGMENT.  31 

suspended  like  lamps  above  the  battlements  lie  hopes 
to  win  ?  I  have  known  men  go  down  as  fools  are 
swept  away  who  swim  at  the  mouth  of  rapids ;  and 
others  as  they  knelt,  paddle  in  hand,  nervous  and  alert, 
were  hurled  into  the  foam  and  mist  by  the  uplift- 
ing of  currents  they  strove  to  control :  and  he  who, 
from  the  quiet  waters  below,  sees  broken  oar  and 
shivered  boat  come  dashing  down,  may  not  declare 
who  acted  bravely,  or  who  shrank.  The  guilt,  there- 
fore, we  leave  with  God ;  the  uplifted  stone  we  cast 
away ;  and  unto  Him  to  whom  alone  the  cause  of 
crime  is  known,  ashamed  at  our  eagerness  to  con- 
demn, we  leave  the  judgment,  and,  if  it  must  so  be, 
the  curse. 

Again :  I  urge  this  as  a  further  consideration,  — 
underljdng  every  honest  man's  consciousness  is  the 
conviction  of  our  kinship  of  evil.  Unto  all  guilt  and 
weakness  we  are  connected  by  a  dire  taint  and  scourge. 
Like  slaves  of  old,  we  are  all  born  under  the  yoke. 
The  faces  of  all,  gay  or  haggard,  look  out  from  under 
burdens.  Of  evil  elements,  evilly  mingled,  were  we 
born  ;  and  by  evil  education  have  we  grown.  The 
fever  rages  in  us  all:  the  treatment  alone  has  made  us 
diifer.  The  universal  disease  —  the  epidemic  which 
infests  all  climates,  enters  all  houses,  visits  every  cra- 
dle —  is  sin.  No  inoculation,  not  even  of  grace,  can 
prevent  all  sharing  this  awful  consanguinity ;  for,  as  of 
old  time,  it  antedates  birth.  In  sin  are  we  conceived. 
Born  of  flesh,  with  travail  and  strong  crying,  flesh  we 
are.  The  impurity  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  fountain  ; 
and  at  every  agitation  the  water  rises  turbid  and  oifen- 


32  CHARITY    OP  JUDGMENT. 

sive.  This  thought  is  not  pleasant ;  yet  is  it  literally 
true.  We  are  all  in  the  transgression ;  we  are  all  under 
the  law.  In  form  and  manifestation  of  sin  we  are 
individual ;  in  the  essence  and  motive-cause  we  are 
folded  in  the  arms  of  an  ugly  unity.  Well,  there  is 
profit  for  us  in  this  thought,  if  we  will  but  receive  it. 
Had  those,  for  instance,  who  dragged  the  adulteress 
to  Christ,  thought  of  this,  they  would  have  been  less 
eager.  The  effect  of  the  reflection,  when  he  brought 
it  to  bear  upon  their  minds,  was  overpowering.  The 
words  of  Christ  revealed  to  them  their  true  position. 
The  kneeling,  terror-stricken  wanton  at  their  feet 
was  their  sister :  they,  in  guilt,  were  brethren  to 
her.  Their  clamor  ceased ;  their  words  of  fiery 
censure  died  on  their  lips;  the  stones  with  which 
they  were  to  slay  her  fell  from  their  hands :  and 
without  a  syllable  of  excuse  or  vindication,  beginning 
with  the  eldest,  they  severally  departed ;  and  the 
fallen  woman  (guilty  and  unfortunate  both)  was  left 
alone  with  Christ.  Good  friends,  I  doubt  if  any  of 
you  will  say  I  am  over-mild  with  wrong  ;  yet,  in  view 
of  our  Saviour's  conduct,  may  we  not  ask.  What  have 
we  to  do  with  stoning  ?  What  down-fallen  woman, 
or  viler  man,  may  we  spurn  ?  Are  we  without  sin 
ourselves?  Has  not  the  absence  of  temptation,  or 
early  training,  or  (sweeter  thought)  God's  restraining 
grace,  rather  than  our  own  virtue,  held  us  from  ruin  ? 
It  does  not  become  those  who  walk  the  edge  of  chasms 
to  revile  the  white  bones  beneath.  It  is  more  than 
likely,  that  in  the  lives  of  most  of  us  have  been  pe- 
riods of  extreme  peril,  —  hours  v/hcn  all  that  is  j^ure. 


CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT.  33 

all  that  is  honest,  all  that  is  godly,  in  us,  was  put  to 
the  test ;  when  every  wicked  agency,  every  subtle 
enticement,  times  and  seasons,  all  conspired,  and  in 
unsought,  unanticipated  conjunction,  bore  down  upon 
us ;  when  even  the  noblest  capacities  in  us  were 
temporarily  in  unhappy  alliance  with  evil,  and  the 
very  traits  of  temper  and  of  blood  which  lift  us  up 
threatened  to  dash  us  down.  Happy  beyond  expres- 
sion, if,  when  so  tried,  we  stood  the  test,  washing  our 
garments,  and  making  them  whiter  in  the  very  waters 
which  well-nigh  swept  us  away !  As  one  looks  back 
over  his  life,  and  recalls  such  seasons,  seeing  now,  bet- 
ter than  at  the  time,  how  frightfully  near  he  was  to 
ruin,  all  censure  of  the  less  fortunate  leaves  him. 
He  sees  how,  but  for  the  dire  struggles  of  years  which 
had  strengthened  his  will,  or  some  nice  sense  of  pu- 
rity his  mother  gave  him,  or,  more  likely  yet,  some 
strong-handed  mercy  reached  to  him  from  out  of  the 
heavens  to  hold  him  back,  he  would  have  fallen.  And 
even  now  he  shudders  to  think  what  might  have 
been.  My  friends,  I  scarcely  think  any  here  will  call 
this  mere  sentiment ;  and  some  of  you  will  see  in  it 
simple  history,  —  the  plain  record  of  passages  and  • 
experiences  through  which  you  have  passed,  or,  it  may 
be,  even  now  are  passing.  And  I  would  produce  in 
your  minds  what  Christ  strove  to  produce  in  the 
minds  of  the  would-be  avengers,  — a  reahzation  of  your 
true  position,  and  charity  of  judgment,  —  when  he  ex- 
claimed, "  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you,  let  him 
first  cast  a  stone." 

I  do  not  plead  for  crime.    I  have  no  sympathy  with 

2* 


34  CHAEITY    OF  JUDGMENT. 

that  maudlin  sentimentalism  which  pardons  traitors 
here,  and  denies  the  existence  of  hell  hereafter. 
Well-nerved  and  stout  be  the  arm  that  smiteth  wrong, 
and  sharp  and  swift  the  censure  following  knowledge 
of  guilt !  But  that  eagerness  to  condemn,  so  notice- 
able in  some  ;  that  evil  construction  put  on  acts  whose 
motive  is  unknown ;  that  merciless  remembrance, 
which  treasureth  up  the  minutest  past  delinquency, 
forgetful  of  after- worth  and  probable  repentance  ; 
that  whispering  suspiciousness,  quick  and  pronged  as 
a  serpent's  tongue,  its  prototype ;  that  bigotry,  and 
assumption  of  superior  sanctity ;  that  hard,  unfeminine 
punctiliousness  which  spurns  the  fallen,  and  denies 
the  possibility  of  cleansing  to  the  stained ;  that  clutch- 
ing of  stones  to  pelt  one  form  of  sin  by  hands  not 
stainless  of  other  forms,  —  this  is  what  I  deplore ; 
this  is  what  I  arraign  as  un-Christlike.  Amid  such  I 
cast  the  biting  permission  of  this  text,  at  the  hearing 
of  which  the  self-righteous  Jew  stood  abashed  and 
condemned. 

There  be  those,  I  verily  believe,  living  to-day, "  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning,"  who  might  have  been 
saved,  had  they  been  treated  with  the  tender  rebuke 
of  Christ,  and  not  the  stones  of  the  Pharisee.  There 
be  those,  who,  by  the  conjunction  of  untoward  circum- 
stances, have,  in  morals  as  well  as  business,  met  their 
ruin.  Like  a  tree  uprooted  by  converging  whirl- 
winds, they  were  the  unconscious  centre  of  powers 
and  pressure  irresistible  by  any  method  of  resistance 
known  to  them.  Society  forgets  this,  and  judges  with 
the  sternness  of  a  God,  —  to  whom  alone  the  cause  of 


CHARITY    OF  JUDGMENT.  85 

sin  is  known,  —  and  not  with  the  lenity  of  a  Christian. 
I  plead  for  these.  I  set  their  faces  in  long  rows  here 
before  me.  I  group  them  around  this  pulpit.  I  am 
not  ashamed  to  speak,  they  being  my  auditors ;  and 
I  say  to  you,  "  Behold  their  tears,  and  hear  their 
cries  !  "  Do  you  say,  "  They  are  guilty  "  ?  I  respond, 
"  Heaven  has  pity  for  such."  You  say,  "  They  are 
unclean."  I  answer,  "  So  was  the  leper."  You  say, 
"  They  rob  and  steal,  the  miserable  thieves  !  "  I  make 
no  verbal  response.  I  visit  upon  you  only  the  rebuke 
of  a  gesture.  I  lift  m}'^  hand ;  and,  following  the  line 
of  its  direction,  you  exclaim,  "  The  thief  on  the  cross ! " 
I  plead  for  these,  I  say.  I  urge  you  to  feel  toward 
them  as  Christ  feels,  and  do  for  them  what  Christ 
Avould  do  were  he  in  your  place.  To  touch  the  stolid 
heart ;  to  stir  the  sense  of  shame,  not  in  order  to  assist 
the  punishment,  but  the  reformation ;  to  better  the 
wrong-doer,  and  not  execute  the  penalty,  —  should  be 
the  object  and  the  effect  of  Christian  intercourse  with 
the  erring.  That  harshness,  that  severity,  which  is 
not  so  directed  and  inspired,  while  it  may  be  in  the 
eye  of  the  law  just  and  deserved,  is  not  Christian. 

Unto  the  thought  that  our  ignorance  makes  us  unfit 
to  judge,  and  to  that  other,  the  remembrance  of  com- 
mon weakness,  I  add  a  third,  —  that  harshness  is  not 
the  method  of  reform. 

I  know  of  nothing  worthier  the  living  for  than  this, 
—  to  bring  your  own  into  harmony  with  the  divine 
will  and  the  betterment  of  others.  To  secure  the 
crown  which  piety  teaches  us  the  pure  shall  wear, 
and  then  gem  it,  is,  in  the  eye  of  faith,  the  object  of 


36  CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

life.  In  the  great  work  of  saving  men,  the  plan  of  the 
atonement,  as  published,  has  made  us  co-agents.  In 
conjunction  with  spiritual  forces,  seen  and  unseen, 
we  serve.  Unto  the  fountain  by  whose  divine  agita- 
tions the  world  is  to  be  healed  we  are  to  bring  the 
sick,  the  halt,  and  the  blind.  Not  the  pure,  if  such 
there  be,  not  the  strong,  nor  yet,  again,  the  righteous, 
are  we,  in  imitation  of  our  Master,  to  call ;  but  the 
stained,  the  weak,  the  unjust,  are  to  be  summoned, 
and  urged  to  drink  and  live.  Unto  all  in  this  con- 
gregation is  Christ,  in  the  rich  fulness  of  his  mercy, 
precious ;  unto  all,  in  promise  and  entreaty,  is  he  to- 
day near.  But  if  there  is  one  among  you  whose 
life,  morally  considered,  has  been  a  greater  failure 
than  others ;  whose  sins  are  darker,  and  more  numer- 
ous ;  whose  habits  are  stronger,  and  for  evil ;  against 
whom,  had  you  been  caught  in  the  commission  of 
your  many  crimes  and  indiscretions,  your  very  friends 
would  rise  up  to  stone  and  brand  you,  —  unto  you, 
O  woman  indiscreet !  unto  you,  O  man  gross  and 
vile  !  is  that  Saviour,  whom  I  proclaim,  more  pre- 
cious and  nigh.  The  deeper  your  stains,  the  freer 
flows  his  cleansing  blood.  There  is  hope  in  your  fu- 
ture yet.  In  the  arms  of  the  atonement,  that  mighty 
revelation  and  mightier  mystery,  you  may  yet  be 
lifted,  cleansed,  and  clothed.  This  is  the  glory  of 
the  atonement,  this  the  vantage-ground  it  has  over 
all  other  systems.  It  is  never  over-taxed ;  it  never 
despairs ;  it  is  equal  to  all  emergencies ;  it  con- 
tends, and  contends  successfully,  with  principalities 
and  powers  ;  neither  height  nor  depth  appalls  it ;   by 


CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT.  37 

things  present  or  things  to  come  it  is  unmoved ;  it 
is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that 
believeth,  —  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Gentile. 
The  object  of  the  gospel,  and  hence  the  object 
of  gospel  effort,  is  to  save  men.  The  Christian's 
prime  object  is,  not  to  award  justice,  nor  protect 
society,  nor  make  prominent  the  distinctions  which 
divide  the  vicious  and  the  good  :  his  object  is  rather 
to  better  men,  to  lift  the  fallen,  to  cheer  the  despond- 
ent, to  cleanse  the  stained.  The  white  do  not  need 
cleansing ;  the  hopeful  need  no  encouragement ; 
those  whose  every  inclination  impels  toward  virtue 
need  no  restraint.  Such  as  walk  with  their  faces 
toward  the  stars  need  no  guidance :  give  them  time, 
and,  without  a  word  or  touch  from  you,  they  will  en- 
ter in  through  the  gates  into  the  city.  But  there  be 
those  who  absolutely  need  your  guidance,  your  sym- 
pathy, your  prayers,  —  men  struggling  in  the  grip  of 
some  appetite,  striving  to  break  through  the  meshes 
of  evil  habits  which  years  have  woveil  around  them ; 
women  fallen  from  what  they  might  have  been,  from 
what  they  should  be,  yet  in  whose  natures,  like  veins 
in  decayed  mosaic,  are  traces  of  former  beauty  ;  souls 
which  have  wandered  like  the  lost  pleiad  from  the 
bright  companionship  into  which  they  were  born, 
who  need  some  voice,  some  harmony,  some  potent 
charm,  to  call  them  back  into  their  shining  sphere. 
The  world  is  full  of  such.  The  wailing  and  the 
fierce  cursing  of  the  earth  come  from  them.  Amid 
song  and  laughter,  the  listening  ear  catches  the  sharp 
cry  of  anguish  and  the  sound  of  ceaseless  moaning. 


38  CHARITY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

There  is  but  one  method  by  which  to  reach  these : 
it  is  the  gospel  method  of  gentleness,  of  love. 
Harshness  won't  do  it.  You  can't  drive  men  to 
heaven  with  whips.  Condemnation,  however  merited, 
won't  do  it :  censure  never  brought  a  wanton  to  her 
knees.  In  this  thought  hes  the  secret-  of  Christ's 
mildness.  Redemption,  and  not  retribution,  was  the 
generic  idea  of  his  mission  upon  earth;  to  make 
men  better,  his  sole  object. 

Good  friends,  is  it  not  with  the  Church  as  with  a 
ship  which  for  days  has  been  sailing  under  clouded 
skies  ?  It  is  time  to  heave  to,  and  from  the  clean 
heavens  take  our  reckoning  anew.  It  is  likely  enough 
that  we  see  things  in  each  other  averse  to  what  we 
regard  as  the  correct  thing.  It  is  possible,  that,  here 
and  there,  some  of  our  number  have  fallen,  and  their 
unfortunate  lapse  is  known  to  us.  In  all  such  cases, 
I  recommend  the  words  of  the  text.  It  is  easy  to 
find  fault ;  it  is  easy  to  condemn ;  there  is  a  cer- 
tain enticement  in  severity  ;  it  seems  noble  to  be 
strict :  but  this  readiness  to  stone  people  in  the 
presence  of  Christ  is  questionable  business.  Stern- 
ness of  judgment  is  forbidden  in  our  text. 

In  the  heart  of  every  one,  especially  of  a  Christian, 
should  exist  the  determination  not  to  die  until  he  has 
made  some  one  better.  It  will  be  pleasant  to  enter 
heaven  the  centre  of  a  group,  and  that  group 
drawn  thither  and  around  you  by  the  attraction  of 
your  gentleness.  This  cannot  be  done  without  effort. 
If  you  would  warm  frozen  people,  you  must  bring 
tliem  to  the  fire :  of  their  own  effort  they  never  will 


CHARITY  OF  JUDGMENT.  39 

come.  If  you  would  bring  sinners  to  Christ,  you 
must  go  to  them,  take  them  by  the  hand,  and  lead 
them  up.  The  farther  off  and  the  deeper  down  they 
are,  the  more  quick  and  eager  should  you  be  to  reach 
them.  Never  fear  contact  with  the  vicious,  if  your 
object  be  to  ennoble  them.  Some  people  are  so  care- 
ful to  keep  themselves  clean,  that  they  won't  touch 
an}^  thing  dirty,  even  in  order  to  cleanse  it.  Heaven 
is  not  a  place  to  which  God  invites  respectable  peo- 
ple, and  genteel  people,  and  people  whose  morals  have 
been  irreproachable,  and  who  never  did  any  thing  bad. 
It  is  a  place  where  deeply-dyed  sinners,  pardoned 
through  Christ ;  where  the  soiled  and  polluted,  washed 
in  his  precious  blood ;  where  those  weary  with  wres- 
tling with  sin,  bruised  with  many  a  fall,  and  scarred 
with  many  a  wound,  made  more  than  conquerors  by 
faith  in  the  Lamb, —  are  invited  to  come,  and  do  come. 
And  when  the  day  of  crowning  shall  have  arrived, 
and  heaven  is  filled  with  the  sound  of  harps  and  the 
lifting-up  of  jubilant  hands,  it  will  not  be  the  self- 
righteous  Pharisee,  who  paid  tithe  on  mint  and  anise  ; 
who  held  himself  aloof  from  the  multitude,  thanking 
the  Lord  he  was  not  as  other  men,  —  it  will  not  be  he 
who  gathers  his  piety  about  him  like  a  white  robe, 
contrasting  with  holy  complacency  his  life  and  ex- 
ample with  those  of  others,  who  will  stand  nearest 
the  throne,  fullest  of  praise  ;  but  the  poor  Peters, 
rash  and  hot-tempered  ;  some  thief,  like  the  one  on 
the  cross  ;  some  Mary,  like  ^fee-  of  the  evil  spirits  ; 
some  Paul,  who  fought  the  truth  with  sword  and 
torch ;  and  they  of  infinite  sin,  infinitely  pardoned,  — 


40  CHARITY  OF  JUDGMENT. 

who  shall  in  voice  and  person  most  declare  the 
triumphs  of  the  Lamb.  Then  shall  the  riddle  be 
solved  ;  and  all  will  see  how  the  first  can  be  last,  and 
the  last  first. 

O  Charity,  thou  sweet  forgiver  of  men's  faults ! 
come  to  this  sanctuary,  and  let  this  audience  see  thee 
as  subjects  see  a  queen  when  she  returns  fiom  jour- 
neying, and  takes  her  seat  once  more  before  them  all 
upon  her  throne.  Thus  seated  high  above  us,  receive 
the  greeting  of  our  lifted  faces  and  outstretched 
hands.  O  Queen  !  thy  face  is  as  the  face  of  one  born 
to  be  loved.  Thou  hast  a  look  upon  thy  counte- 
ance  not  of  this  earth ;  a  look  of  tenderness ;  a  look 
of  love  that  is  divine.  I  see  no  stones  within  thy  lily 
hands ;  and  thy  white  fingers  have  never  set  the  poi- 
soned arrow  to  the  quivering  string.  But  we  are  rude 
and  harsh,  and  talk  with  hasty  tongues.  Teach  us, 
we  pray,  the  grace  of  yielding.  Hold  back  our  hands 
from  smiting  when  we  are  smitten.  Incline  our  hearts 
to  love  those  who  hate  us,  and  make  it  easy  for  our 
lips  to  bless  those  who  do  us  ill.  Paralyze  suspicion 
in  us,  and  make  us  happier  with  a  larger  trust. 
Stretch  out  thy  sceptre  over  us  ;  open  thy  lips,  and 
into  the  silence  of  our  bowed  attitude,  and  cleaving 
it  as  a  scented  breeze  cleaves  the  waiting  atmos- 
phere, let  the  sweet  saying  come,  "  Judge  not,  lest 
ye  be  judged." 


SABBATH  MOnmjfQ,  OCT.  M,  1871. 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.-GOD'S  GIFTS  TO   MAN,  AND   MAN'S   RESPONSIBILITY  AS   IN- 
FERRED THEREFROM. 

"Every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift  is  from  above,  and 
cometh  down  from  the  father  of  lights,  with  whom  is  no  vari- 
ABLENESS, NEITHER  SHADOW  OF  TURNING."  — JameS   i.  17. 

THE  word  "gift"  is  one  of  the  loveliest  in  the 
language.  It  is  a  flower-like  word,  and  full  of 
fragrance.  Its  suggestions  and  reminiscences  are  de- 
lightful. It  is  a  favorite  word  both  with  God  and  man. 
It  is  used  I  know  not  how  many  times  in  the  Bible, 
especially  in  the  New  Testament.  It  is  introduced 
to  symbolize  what  would  otherwise  remain  hidden 
in  God's  nature  and  conduct.  Pardon,  redemption, 
holiness,  heaven,  —  all  are  mentioned  as  the  gifts  of  his 
grace  to  us.  It  is  a  most  significant  and  expansive 
term.  Like  the  firmament,  it  is  inclusive  of  all  bright 
things  visible  to  man  in  the  doings  of  God.  You 
might  enumerate  every  act  of  the  Father,  from  the 
creation  of  man  to  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
aU  the  operations  of  his  mercy  since,  and  group  them 
all  together ;  you  may  call  the  roll  of  all  his  deeds 
of  love  to  man,  and  all  his  gracious  acts  to  us  individ- 

41 


42  GOD'S   GIFTS  TO  MAN, 

ually :  and  above  them  all,  or  upon  the  face  of  each 
separately,  one  might,  with  the  accuracy  of  entire 
truthfulness,  write  "  Gift."  They  have  all  come  to  the 
race,  and  to  each  of  us,  fresh  from  his  hand.  They  were 
all  suggested  out  of  the  overbrimming  fulness  of  that 
love  for  us  which  makes  its  channel  deeper  and  wider 
in  flowing,  and  limits  itself  only  by  our  capacity  to  re- 
ceive. Whatever  there  is  of  strength  and  beauty  in 
our  bodies,  whatever  of  power  and  dignity  in  our 
minds,  whatever  of  capacity  in  our  moral  faculties, 
they  have  all  been  directly  bestowed  upon  us  by  God. 
There  is  not  a  hope  I  have  in  which  I  do  not  see  my 
Father's  face  ;  and  the  reflection  of  the  face  reveals 
the  mirror's  use,  and  makes  it  lovely.  There  is  not 
a  love  known  to  your  life,  to  which  is  any  depth  or 
purity,  from  which  come  not  divine  reflections.  You 
cannot  put  your  foot  upon  its  lilied  marge,  waking, 
nor  sail  dimly  out  in  dreams  upon  its  surface  of  per- 
fect rest,  you  cannot  gaze  into  it  from  any  point  of 
view,  and  not  see,  far  down  and  within  it,  bright  and 
shining  suggestions  of  heaven.  Nor  is  there  any 
sympathy  in  your  heart  or  mine,  friend,  or  any  sweet 
impulse  or  prompting,  no  high  aim  or  nol^le  motive, 
no,  nor  any  consolation  which  makes  our  sorrows  like 
wounds  which  heal  themselves  in  bleeding,  not  of 
God.  I  bring  all  these  together,  and  string  them  like 
pearls  upon  one  necklace,  and  lay  them  in  the  palm 
of  his  benevolence,  —  a  kind  of  tribute  ;  my  little 
gift  to  the  All-Giving. 

Friends  and  strangers,  you  whose  habitations  are 
with  us,  and  you  whose  homes  are  far  away,  know 


AND  MAN'S  EESPONSIBILITY.  43 

ye,  one  and  all,  that  I  am  to  speak  to-day  of  God  as 
a  giver.  How  apt  the  suggestions  of  the  day  and 
place  I  This  sanctuary  in  which  you  are  now  sitting 
is  his  gift  to  you.  This  blessed  Bible  —  whence  came 
it?  From  God.  The  preacher's  voice  and  presence 
—  whence  are  they  ?  Who  sent  him  to  you  ?  God. 
This  holy  day,  this  gift  of  rest  to  your  bodies,  bring- 
ing repose  and  healthy  change  of  thought  to  your 
minds,  and  such  opportunities  to  your  souls  as  over- 
lap eternity  in  their  possible  influence,  —  who  gave 
this  sabbath  day  to  man,  and  fenced  it  in  with  solemn 
injunctions,  and  cherished  it  through  all  the  ages,  even 
down  to  our  own  time,  and  made  it  to  you  and  yours 
the  sweetest  and  best  of  all  days  ?  Who  has  done  this  ? 
God.  Look,  then,  upon  this  altar  and  these  walls, 
and  on  this  book,  and  on  the  speaker's  face,  and  on 
the  lighted  firmament  around  and  above,  beneath 
which  this  city  —  the  noise  of  all  its  commerce  hushed, 
the  voices  of  its  tumult  silenced,  and  the  pulses  of  its 
activities  still  —  keeps  in  peace  its  day  of  holy  rest, 
and  see  on  altar,  and  sanctuary  walls,  and  sacred  vol- 
ume, and  living  face,  yea,  and  written  across  the  vault 
of  heaven  itself,  the  words,  '^  God's  gift  to  man ; " 
and,  as  if  he  did  address  you  through  me,  —  as  in  very 
truth  he  does,  —  listen  and  consider  while  I  speak  of 
his  gifts  to  you,  and  your  responsibility  to  him. 

You  may  begin  with  the  very  lowest  of  his  gifts  to 
you,  —  those  that  come  through  the  ordinary  channels 
of  nature,  and  hence  seem  least  connected  with  super- 
natural bestowment,  —  even  your  bodily  powers,  — 
and  you  can  but  see  at  a  glance  how  perfectly  you  are 


44  god's  gifts  to  man, 

equipped  for  usefulness  and  happiness  upon  the  earth. 
In  your  own  body  find  proof  of  your  Creator's  love. 
What  grace,  what  beauty,  what  sensitiveness,  and  sub- 
tilty  of  feeling,  has  been  given  to  the  body  !  How  re- 
sponsive it  is  to  the  mind  !  how  willing  its  subjection  ! 
how  free  and  generous  its  service  !  I  know  that  it  shall 
fail,  and  be  not ;  I  know  that  by  and  by  we  shall  have 
a  better  :  but  for  the  time  being,  for  the  present  state 
of  soul-development,  how  adapted  the  instrument  is 
to  the  wishes  and  wants  of  the  player  !  You  need  not 
go  to  the  Bible,  to  priest  or  creed,  friend,  to  learn  that 
God  has  given  you  much  for  which  you  should  be 
thankful.  Examine  the  ingenious  mechanism  of  your 
body ;  behold  its  happy  adjustments,  its  surprising 
facilities,  its  capacity  of  accommodation,  its  power 
of  endurance,  its  sweet  attractions  and  beauty ;  and 
reverently  acknowledge,  and  be  sobered  to-day  by  the 
thought  of,  that  love  that  created  you.  Living  in 
such  a  palace,  you  should  indeed  be  as  a  king :  the 
majesty  of  your  habitation  might  make  a  slave  royal. 
Why,  fiiend,  it  seems  as  if  one  wish,  one  design,  pre- 
sided over  the  construction  of  its  every  part ;  the 
sole  object  being  to  give  your  soul  a  companion  and 
servant  of  which  it  need  not  be  ashamed,  and  which 
should  constantly  minister  to  its  growth  and  joy.  See 
with  what  power,  what  grace,  what  energies.  He  has 
endowed  it,  and  you  will  soon  grow  to  look  with  rev- 
erence and  surprise  upon  what,  heretofore,  has  awa- 
kened no  religious  emotion,  or,  indeed,  been  wholly 
disregarded.  I  know  that  the  beautiful  temple  is 
defaced,  marred,  and  in  ruins  ;  I  know  that  it  stands 


AND  MAN'S  RESPONSIBILITY.  45 

to-day  like  a  castle  upon  which  time  and  man's  hate 
have  spent  their  force,  —  weakened  in  all  its  structure, 
and  robbed  of  its  ornaments.  We  have  never  seen  a 
human  body  as  the  Creator  designed  and  originally 
created  it.  Ignorance  and  culture  both  have  made 
war  upon  it ;  the  one  has  degraded,  and  the  other 
emaciated  it ;  and,  what  these  have  left,  sin  has  at- 
tacked :  and  between  the  three,  joined  as  they  have 
been  in  evil  alliance  through  all  the  generations 
back  of  us,  the  body,  compared  to  what  it  once 
was,  is  broken  down.  The  power  and  beauty  of 
its  original  state  are  departed ;  and  we  see  no 
more,  in  any  thing  like  its  primal  state,  the  last 
and  noblest  work  of  God.  The  vase  is  shattered; 
but,  friends,  we  can  see,  even  in  the  beauty  of  the 
fragments,  what,  when  it  came  fresh  from  the  hands 
of  the  Maker,  it  must  have  been.  The  bow  is  broken, 
and  the  shaft  is  no  longer  set  to  the  tense  and  tune- 
ful string  ;  but  in  the  toughness  of  the  splinters,  and 
the  elasticity  of  the  parts,  we  behold  how  vast  must 
have  been  its  unweakened  power.  Even  now,  as  I 
have  remarked,  how  it  serves  us  !  How  it  toils  for 
us  I  How  the  senses,  even  in  their  impaired  state, 
seek  to  and  do  minister  unto  our  happiness  !  How 
sweet  are  the  uses  of  the  ear  !  —  that  organ  which  takes 
a  dumb  vibration  in  the  air,  and  interprets  it  into 
a  pleasant  sound.  How  constantly  busy  is  the  eye  ! 
amusing  and  delighting  us  with  all  manner  of  images 
brought  from  near  and  far.  How  the  nose,  through 
which  the  breath  of  life  comes  and  goes,  takes  the  crisp 
freshness  of  the  air,  and  the  fragrance  of  the  fields,  for 


46  GOD'S  GIFTS  TO  MAN, 

our  maintenance  and  delight !  What  could  God  have 
done  for  you  in  your  physical  organization  more  than 
he  has  done?  Look  throus^h  the  entire  list  of  the 
animal  kingdom,  and  see  if  you  can  find  another  body 
so  sensitive,  so  manifold  in  its  adaptation,  so  supple 
and  alert  in  the  play  of  its  strength,  so  suggestive  of 
dignity  and  intelligence,  as  is  yours.  Well  might  the 
great  poet  call  it  the  "paragon  of  animals."  And 
even  regarded  in  his  physical  structure  alone,  seeing 
that  God,  in  the  similitude  of  his  perfection,  is  like  unto 
every  thing  perfect,  well  might  the  inspired  writer 
say  "  that  man  was  created  in  the  image  and  likeness 
of  God." 

But  it  is  not  until  you  contemplate  man  in  respect 
to  his  mental  and  moral  faculties ;  it  is  not  until  jo\x 
look  within  yourself,  and  behold  the  powers  of  your 
mind,  and  the  more  subtile  but  incomparably  superior 
attributes  of  the  soul,  —  that  you  fairly  see  what  God 
has  done  for  you.  What  costly,  what  magnificent 
furniture  is  this  with  which  the  almighty  Architect 
has  fitted  up  and  adorned  the  temple  of  the  spirit! 
Here  is  Reason,  —  that  pale  but  lovely  reflection  of 
God,  —  which  draws  the  line  between  beast  and  man : 
on  one  side  of  which  is  mastery,  the  powers  and 
pleasures  of  intelligence  and  eternal  life ;  on  the 
other,  inbred  subjection,  absence  of  thought,  and  ex- 
istence that  hurries  to  extinction.  This  is  ours, — 
our  birthright;  given,  not  bought;  bestowed,  not 
acquired,  —  the  sign  and  proof  of  our  sonship,  and  a 
bond  that  binds  us  as  with  ties  of  blood  to  his  eternal 
Fatherhood. 


AND  MAN'S  RESPONSIBILITY.  47 

Here,  too,  is  Memory,  —  life's  great  thesaurus, 
where  we  bestow  all  our  jewels ;  that  gallery  in 
which  are  hung  the  faces  of  the  loved  as  no  limner 
could  depict  them ;  that  chamber  swathed  thick 
with  tapestry,  on  which  the  days,  like  flying  fingers, 
have  wrought  grave  and  bright  forms,  and  retained  the 
otherwise  transient  joys.  Who  would  give  up  his  mem- 
ory ?  who  surrender  this  shield  against  forgetfulness  ? 

O  Memory !  thy  voice  is  sweet,  and  the  low 
murmurs  of  thy  speech  fall  on  the  heart  like  per- 
fect music.  Thy  power  is  marvellous,  —  stronger 
than  death's,  more  potent  than  the  grave's.  All  gen- 
erations have  known  thee,  and  thy  empire  stretches 
backward  to  the  beginning  of  the  world.  At  a  word, 
a  motion,  of  thine,  the  past,  which  until  then  was 
blank  and  black,  is  made  luminous  with  glowing 
deeds  and  radiant  faces,  and  all  manner  of  bright 
things.  Thy  hand  passes  over  their  blackness,  and 
makes  the  over-vaulting  and  far-reaching  years  like  a 
starry  sky.  Thy  voice  is  never  silent.  The  lan- 
guage of  the  heart  is  thine,  and  songs,  and  the  voice 
of  greeting ;  and  tremulous  farewells,  sadly  sweet, 
come  floating  up  to  us ;  nor  is  laughter  wanting,  or 
the  low  murmur  of  prayer.  In  thy  right  hand  is  wis- 
dom ;  and  in  thy  left,  consolation,  Hope  springs  out 
of  thee  as  a  flower  out  of  its  native  soil ;  and  faith 
itself  finds  support  by  leaning  on  thy  arm.  Mem- 
ory, that  findeth  her  perfect  life  in  God,  and  in 
man,  according  to  the  measure  of  his  days,  a  life  not 
less  perfect,  —  what  should  we  do  without  her  ? 
Amid  our  failures    she    recalleth  some   antedating 


48  god's  gifts  to  man, 

triumpli,  and  the  bitterness  of  our  cup  is  made  tol- 
erable to  our  lips.  When  pierced  with  human  be- 
reavement, she  bindeth  up  our  wounds  with  recol- 
lected mercies ;  and  God  seems  dearer  and  nigher  to 
us  because  of  her  power. 

My  friends,  what  man  is  there  of  you  all  who 
would  forget  his  past  ?  —  that  past  where  were  his 
battles  and  his  victories,  the  dawn  and  fulfilment 
of  his  hopes,  the  birth  of  thought,  the  growth  of 
purpose,  and  the  consummation  of  his  plans.  No 
one.     And  yet  memory  is  one  of  God's  gifts  to  you. 

Here,  too,  is  Imagination,  the  divinest  faculty  of 
them  all,  winged  like  an  eagle,  tuneful  as  a  lark. 
Whither  can  it  not  fly?  There  is  no  distance  in 
space,  no  lapse  of  time,  it  cannot  traverse.  It  takes 
a  million  years  for  that  beam  of  light  to  reach  the 
earth  ;  but  I  flashed  in  fancy  past  its  parent  orb,  bal- 
anced as  it  is  amid  the  far-off  stars,  even  as  I  spoke. 
Imagination,  thou  art  the  greatest  of  travellers,  and 
forever  journeying.  Like  that  fabled  bird  that  never 
touches  earth,  but  sails  in  ceaseless  flight  above  the 
clouds,  sleeping  upon  the  wing,  so  thou  art  ever  in 
motion.  Thou  alone  art  free.  All  other  faculties  are 
trammelled  ;  all  are  limited.  Bounds  there  are  that 
they  may  not  cross;  but  thou  art  fetterless.  The 
planets  know  thy  coming,  and  the  fixed  stars  have 
hailed  thee.  Thou  hast  seen  God.  Thy  foot,  washed 
in  the  all-cleansing  blood,  white  as  a  lily,  hath  stood 
where  the  redeemed  stand ;  and  thou  hast  heard  their 
songs,  and  seen  their  joy.  Of  all  faculties,  of  all 
powers  given  of  God,  friends,  I  count  this  the  great- 


AND  MAN'S  EESPONSIBILITY.  49 

est,  the  most  subtile,  the  most  ethereal,  and  the  most 
divine. 

Here,  then,  are  reason,  memory,  imagination,  —  a 
trinity  of  gifts  such  as  none  save  a  God  could  give, 
such  as  none  but  the  offspring  of  God  could  receive. 
\  mention  only  these  three  faculties  :  I  need  not 
mention  more.  These  are  enough  to  show  what 
God  has  given  you.  Are  you  not  rich  in  gifts? 
Are  you  not  blessed?  What  more  could  he  have 
done  for  you  than  he  has  done  ?  Has  he  not  given 
as  a  father  who  is  a  God  should  give,  —  generously, 
munificently  ?  What,  now,  let  me  ask,  have  you  done 
for  him  ?  Where  are  your  days  of  labor  ?  where  the 
long  account  of  service  ?  How  and  when  have  you 
cancelled  the  bond  and  obligation  you  are  under? 
When  your  Father  called,  have  you  answered  ?  when 
he  directed,  have  you  gone?  when  he  commanded, 
have  you  obej^ed  ?  To  what  use  have  you  put  these 
faculties  ?  Go  .over  the  list :  what  have  you  been 
doing  with  your  reason  all  these  years  ?  Have  you 
employed  your  rational  powers  to  minister  to  irra- 
tional objects  ?  Have  you  used  reason  like  a  besieging 
cannon  to  batter  down  your  faith  ?  Have  you  turned 
this  gift  of  God  against  God  himself,  and  used  what 
is  of  itself  irrefragable  proof  of  your  divine  connection 
ii  show  that  no  such  connection  exists?  Perhaps 
yc^i  are  an  infidel,  a  sceptic,  an  atheist.  Whence 
came  your  power  to  be  such?  Whence  came  your 
ability  to  deny,  save  from  Him  whom  you  deny  ?  Can 
the  child  deny  the  existence  of  the  father  from  whose 
existence  his  own  existence  was  derived  ?     I  say  unto 

3 


60  GOD'S   GIFTS  TO  MAN, 

such  of  you  as  may  be  doing  this  thing,  "  He  who 
sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugh ;  he  shall  speak 
to  you  in  his  wrath,  —  the  wrath  of  an  abused  and 
affronted  father,  —  and  vex  you  in  his  displeasure." 

Or  again  :  to  what  use  do  yoa  put  your  memories  ? 
Its  lessons  are  many.  Do  you  allow  them  to  teach 
you  wisdom  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  the  highest  of 
all  attainments  is  to  so  live  that  recollection  shall 
not  be  painful?  Half  of  heaven  will  consist  of  re- 
membrance :  the  endless  song  will  derive  half  its  pa- 
thos and  power  from  retrospection.  Never,  through 
all  eternity,  will  any  of  you  Christians  forget  the 
hour  when  you  were  born  in  the  new  birth.  Never 
shall  any  of  us  forget  the  hour  when  we  were  lifted 
from  the  miry  clay  and  the  horrible  pit.  Then  did 
we  truly  begin  to  live.  All  life  before  that  was  ono 
form  of  death.  Only  from  that  point  shall  we  ever 
wish  to  date  existence.  The  converse  of  this  is  true. 
The  torment  of  hell  is  bred  of  these  two  things,  — 
recollection  and  the  absence  of  hope.  Of  these  two 
parents  shall  be  born  those  twin-causes  of  suffering,  — 
remorse  and  despair.  These  are  the  worm  that  will 
not  die,  and  that  awful  fire  that  cannot  be  quenched. 
Your  suffering  will  not  be  an  infliction,  but  a  conse- 
quence, —  just  as  it  is  here  and  now.  You  will  not  be 
blasted  as  by  a  shaft  of  lightning :  the  fire  shall  be 
within  yourself,  self-ldndled,  self-fed,  making  your  im- 
mortality an  immortality  of  ill.  How  much  is  there 
back  of  you,  friend,  yoa  would  like  to  forget  ?  how 
much  of  wickedness  that  you  have  partially  covered, 
but  which,  when  the  u versions  and  pursuits  of  the 


AND  MAN'S  EESPONSIBILITY.  61 

world  are  no  longer  for  a  refuge,  will  stand  forth  ex- 
posed as  in  the  day  of  commission  ?  Then  shall  that 
deed  arise  ;  then  shall  that  thought  stand  forth  ;  then 
shall  that  crouching  lust  spring  up  in  its  revolting 
vileness :  and  they  will  point  their  fingers  at  you,  and 
say,  "  Thou  art  the  man  I  "  "  Thou  art  the  woman !  " 
For  the  day  hasteth  on,  yea,  is  even  nigh  unto  us, 
when  we  must  own  all  these  children  of  the  mind,  be 
they  white  or  black  ;  when  they  will  swarm  about  us, 
and  say  to  Him  who  shall  then  be  sitting  in  judg- 
ment, "  This  is  our  father  and  our  mother  !  " 

And,  lastly,  imagination,  —  what  have  you  been 
doing  with  that  ?  Upon  what  missions  have  you  sent 
it?  Upon  what  has  this  great  artist  of  the  mind 
been  busy  ?  What  pictures  have  you  commanded  it 
to  produce  ?  Have  you  sent  it  out  as  a  pioneer  to 
corruption,  and  made  the  debauchery  of  anticipation 
tenfold  greater  than  the  debauchery  of  act  ?  What 
are  you  doing  with  it  day  by  day  ?  Do  you  fill  its 
hand  with  tare-seeds,  and  send  it  forth  over  all  the 
field  of  your  future  life,  compelling  its  unwilling 
palms  to  sow  for  a  dire  harvest  ?  or  have  3^ou  even 
debauched  it,  until  its  former  divine  repugnance  to 
such  service  is  lost,  and  it  delights  itself  in  wicked- 
ness ?  Are  any  of  you  convicted  ?  and  do  you  say, 
"  Tell  me,  tell  me,  of  some  power  within  or  above 
myself  by  which  I  can  call  in  the  winds  that  I  have 
sown,  and  thereby  escape  the  fearful  reaping  of  the 
whirlwind  "  ? 

My  friend,  that  power  exists  alone  in  Christ.  In 
him  I  found  the  power ;  in  him  hundreds  of  others 


52  GOD'S   GIFTS  TO  MAN, 

here  this  morning  found  it.  Of  this  fact  we  beai 
our  testimony  before  you  to-day.  We  bear  our  tes- 
timony, I  ask  you  to  note,  to  a  reality  which  we 
have  tested  and  experienced.  The  witness  is  within 
us,  —  in  the  memory  of  former  weakness  converted 
into  power;  in  the  remembrance  of  faihires  subse- 
quently changed  to  triumphs  ;  and,  what  is  dearer 
and  sweeter  yet,  the  consciousness  of  growing 
strength  which  we  feel  springing  up  within  us  day 
by  day.  Could  evidence  be  stronger  ?  Could  proof 
be  more  direct  ?  He  alone,  we  say,  can  forgive  your 
abuse  of  reason  ;  he  alone  can  take  remorse  from 
recollection,  even  by  washing  out  the  record  of  the 
transgression  which  feeds  it ;  he  alone  can  restore 
your  imagination  to  its  original  purity,  and  make  it 
as  familiar  with  spiritual  sights  and  uses  as  you  have 
made  it  with  sensual.  And  so  you  see  that  the  be- 
stowments  of  grace  are  even  greater  than  the  be- 
stowments  of  nature  ;  and  that,  in  this  ofter  to  rectify 
the  misadjustment  of  your  faculties,  God  does  more 
for  you  than  he  did  even  in  their  endowment.  The 
mercy  which  forgives  and  reforms  is  greater  than  the 
goodness  that  created. 

Here,  then,  you  stand,  with  your  house  unsteady 
above  your  heads,  and  the  western  horizon  full  of  ap- 
proaching storm.  Here,  then,  you  stand,  morally  in 
ruins,  not  a  faculty  doing  its  originally- appointed 
work,  not  a  capacity  free  from  abuse,  not  a  column 
of  power  in  its  proper  place  ;  and  the  great  Architect 
comes  down  to  you,  and  standing  by  your  side,  and 
calHng  your  attention  to  the  condition  you  are  in, 


AND  MAN'S  RESPONSIBILITY.  53 

says,  "  See,  my  child,  what  a  building  I  built  for  you 
to  inhabit !  —  how  marred,  how  defaced,  how  untena- 
ble, it  is  !  Come,  join  with  me,  and  let  us  restore  it  to 
its  former  beauty  and  fitness.  Here  are  the  materials," 
he  says  ;  "  here  are  friends  to  assist  you  :  I  will  stay 
with  you  to  direct."  What  more  could  you  ask, 
friend  ?  Realize  the  fulness  of  the  offer :  every  power, 
every  faculty,  every  lost  grace,  every  shattered  virtue, 
shall  be  restored ;  and  your  soul,  forgiven  of  all  its 
faults,  cleansed  of  all  its  stains,  perfected  in  all  its 
parts,  shall  return  at  death  unto  the  God  that  gave  it. 

This  is  the  overture  :  who  will  accept  it  ?  Who 
is  willing  to  take  the  responsibility  of  a  refusal  ?  If 
any,  speak,  that  we  may  know  who,  on  God's  holy 
day,  in  God's  own  house,  and  when  entreated  by  the 
Spirit,  spurns  the  offer  of  his  grace.  Speak,  that  we 
may  separate  ourselves  from  you,  lest  the  conse- 
quences of  an  affront  from  which  we  shrink,  but 
which  you  are  reckless  enough  to  put  upon  the  All- 
Powerful,  may  fall,  too,  on  us,  and  the  innocent  suffer 
with  the  guilty. 

I  know  what  delay  the  Tempter  will  suggest ;  what 
excuses  he  will  put  into  your  mouths ;  how  he  will 
urge  you  to  procrastinate  ;  how,  from  this  moment,  he 
will  strive  to  divert  your  minds,  and  banish  from  your 
thoughts  the  duty  and  obligation  of  gratitude.  Say 
that  you  will  not  be  deceived  ;  say,  that,  being  fore- 
warned, you  will  be  on  your  guard.  I  will  not  mul- 
tiply words :  I  hold  back  the  feelings  that  struggle 
for  utterance.  My  feelings  are  nothing  here  or  there  : 
your  feelings  are  the  things  to  be  considered  :  the 


54  GOD'S  GIFTS  TO  MAN", 

condition  of  your  soul,  not  mine,  is  the  point  at  issue. 
My  exhortation  would  not  help  you :  it  is  action  on 
your  part,  and  not  words  from  me,  that  will  save  you. 
I  care  not  how.  Let  it  be  in  the  thunders  of  a 
guilty  conscience,  in  the  whirlwind  of  remorse,  or  in 
the  still  small  voice  of  child-like  submission,  burying 
its  face  in  the  robes  of  his  offended  fatherhood.  I 
care  not  how.  I  only  pray  that  God  may  stand  mani- 
fested in  power  and  love  before  you  on  the  summit  of 
this  opportunity,  here  and  now. 

I  beg  you  to  remember  that  he  has  already  done, 
both  in  the  way  of  nature  and  of  grace,  all  that  can 
be  done  for  you.  There  is  no  mercy  held  in  reserve, 
to  meet  difficult  cases,  yet  to  be  revealed.  There  is 
no  unopened  fountain  of  compassion  lying  back  of 
Calvary,  into  whose  waters,  powerful  to  cleanse,  you 
can  in  your  dying-hour  plunge.  When  Christ  died, 
all  that  God  could  do  was  done.  Heaven  retired 
within  itself  at  that  exhibition  of  its  sympathy,  and 
watches  in  silence  the  issue  of  its  last  endeavor. 
That  endeavor  has  reference  to  each  individual  life. 
The  eyes  of  the  multitude  are  on  you,  friend ;  and 
the  thrones  of  heaven  lean  and  listen  to  hear  the  re- 
sult. What  is  it  to  be  ?  I  feel  the  breath  of  a  great 
aspiration  upon  me.  If  I  could  only  sweep  back 
the  firmament ;  if  I  could  draw  aside,  even  for  one 
moment,  the  curtains  of  blue  and  gold  behind  which 
heaven  is,  where  are  the  angels,  and  the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect,  and  that  great  crowd  of  wit- 
nesses of  which  Paul  speaks,  and,  in  the  centre  of 
them  all,  Christ  himself,  who  suffered  and  died  that 


AND  MAN'S  EESPONSIBILITY.  55 

heaven  might  be  yours  ;  and  you  might  see  how  intent 
and  anxious  they  are,  watching  you  amid  a  silence 
so  deep  that  they  can  hear  your  very  hearts  beat,  — 
what  would  you  see  ?  Look  within  your  heart,  and 
answer.  If  penitence  is  there,  joy^  joy  unutterable  ; 
if  hardness  and  indifference,  sadness  and  dismay  : 
"  Never,"  they  say,  "  shall  that  man  have  another  such 
a  chance  ;  never  shall  he  be  saved  !  " 

Let  me  ask  you  this  question  :  Wliy  do  you  fight 
so  against  God  ?  Why  do  you  turn  so  rebelliously 
against  your  heavenly  Father,  even  in  his  own  house  ? 
Why  do  you  hear  with  such  cool  indifference,  with 
such  sluggishness  of  mind,  with  such  obstinacy  of 
will,  his  courteous  and  tender  overtures  ?  You 
treat  him  as  if  he  were  in  the  wrong,  and  you  right. 
You  give  him  no  election.  No  government  under 
heaven  could  forgive  rebels  while  they  continued  to 
fight.  Precedent  to  all  pardon,  there  must  be  sub- 
mission. Submit,  then,  all  ye  who,  in  act  and  word 
and  thought,  are  in  arms  against  the  government  of 
God,  or  the  wrath  of  God,  and  of  all  holy  beings,  shall 
abide  on  you. 

Observe,  I  make  no  imprecation.  "  Vengeance  is 
mine;  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord."  I  only  inter- 
pret results  from  their  causes ;  I  only  declare  the 
plain,  unmistakable  sequence  of  your  position.  I 
only  say,  that  touching  moral  duty,  touching  spir- 
itual relation,  touching  your  position  before  God, 
you  are  wrong ;  and  you  must  right  yourselves 
while  you  may,  or  you  will  receive  in  full  measure 
the  consequences  of  your  refusal. 


56  GOD'S  GIFTS  TO   MAN, 

I  query  about  the  decisions  that  are  now  being 
made  in  this  congregation.  I  picture  to  myself  the 
multitude  of  your  thoughts.  Which  way  do  they 
set  ?  What  will  be  the  issue  of  this  morning's  de- 
bate ?  I  know  that  you  have  the  power  to  resist. 
You  have  power  to  harden  your  hearts.  You  can 
brace  yourself  against  the  persuasions  of  the  Spirit, 
even  as,  when  a  stubborn  and  fractious  child,  you 
were  wont  to  brace  yourself  against  a  father's  com- 
mand or  a  mother's  entreaty.  But  what  an  act  it 
will  be  !  How  it  will  recoil  on  you,  as  all  wrong  does 
on  wrong-doers !  Let  me  say  something  to  you.  It 
is  this :  No  man  ever  crushed  down  a  good  inclina- 
tion in  his  heart,  and  did  not  suffer  for  it.  If  there 
be  any  stirrings  in  your  heart,  friend,  any  quickening 
of  conscience  that  has  long  lain  dormant,  any  break- 
ing-down of  an  indifference  that  has  become  habitual 
to  you,  any  going-forth  of  your  soul  towards  God,  I 
charge  you  not  to  stifle,  not  to  disregard  it.  I  be- 
seech you  to  behold  in  this  travail  of  your  mind  the 
premonitions  of  the  new  birth.  Why,  friend,  the 
Spirit  is  striving  with  you.  These  are  the  voices,  more 
direct,  more  solemn,  more  potent,  than  any  verbal 
exhortation,  which  declare,  as  though  an  angel  from 
heaven  bore  testimony  to  you,  that  "  now  is  the  ac- 
cepted time,  now  is  the  day  of  salvation."  Who  of 
you  in  all  this  crowd  believes  that  this  is  the  day 
of  his  salvation  ?  Who  of  you  feels  that  you  have 
come  this  morning  face  to  face  with  the  supreme 
opportunity  of  your  life  ? 

My  friends,  I  rejoice  with   joy  unspeakable    that 


AND  MAN'S  HESPONSIBILITY.  57 

many  of  you  are  not  ungrateful  for  the  gifts  given 
you  of  God.  You  have  bowed  your  heads  above  the 
table,  and  thanked  him  for  your  "  daily  bread  ;  "  amid 
the  luxury  and  comfort  of  your  homes,  you  have 
thanked  him  for  your  wealth;  with  clasped  hands,  and 
hearts  too  full  for  speech,  you  have  thanked  him  for 
your  loves  ;  by  cradle  and  grave  has  the  multitude  of 
his  mercies  risen  up  before  you ;  and  more  than  once 
have  you  exclaimed  with  the  Psalmist,  "Praise  the 
Lord,  O  my  soul !  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits." 

We  know  not  what  is  ahead.  We  know  not  what 
calamity  may  smite,  or  what  disaster  befall  us.  Our 
future  is  one  vast  vault  of  uncertainty.  In  it,  if  stars 
there  be,  they  are  veiled.  If  any  sun  is  set  within  its 
sombre  dome,  its  beams  are  shortened,  and  it  shines 
not  on  our  faces  to-day.  Friends  may  desert,  and 
foes  be  multiplied ;  health  may  fail,  and  wealth  take 
to  itself  wings,  and  fly  away  ;  the  vase  of  your  bright- 
est hope  may  be  shivered,  and  fragrance  leave  its 
scented  rim :  but  this  I  know,  and  of  this  I  exhort 
all  of  you  to  be  persuaded,  that  God  will  never  fail 
you.  His  gifts  will  never  cease.  In  him  "is  no  varia- 
bleness, neither  shadow  of  turning."  Behind  and  be- 
yond all  darkness,  and  shining  through  it,  I  see  the  orb 
of  his  love,  armed  on  all  sides  with  beams,  and  lifted 
ceaselessly  by  the  law  of  its  own  sublime  motion. 
And  when  we  have  come  to  the  radiant  border  of  that 
hemisphere  whither  our  feet  tend,  and  from  that  bed 
—  which  the  languages  of  this  world  call  the  bed  of 
death,  but  on  which,  as  a  child  far  fairer  than  the 
parent,  out  of  the  travail  of  this  life  is  born  the  ever- 

3* 


58  GOD'S   GIFTS  TO  MAN. 

lasting  —  gaze  off  with  eyes  growing  dim  to  all  else, 
but  more  open  to  it,  we  shall  see  the  orb  of  God's 
love  shining  in  meridian  glory  above  us,  nevermore 
to  be  veiled  by  reason  of  any  blindness  in  us,  never- 
more to  be  obscured  by  the  occurrence  of  evil  cir- 
cumstances ;  for  we  all  shall  be  changed  from  glory 
to  glory  when  mortality  is  laid  down,  and  we  are 
clothed  upon  once  and  forever  with  the  immortal. 


SABBATH  MOBKIKG,  OCT.  29,  1871. 


SERMON. 


SUBJECT. -THE  DANGER  AND  WICKEDNESS  OF  SEEMING  TO  BE  BETTER 
THAN  YOU  REALLY  ARE. 

"Moreover,  when  ye  fast,  be  not  as  the  hypocrites,  of  a  sad 
countenance;  for  they  disfigure  their  faces,  that  they  may  appear 

UNTO  MEN  to  FAST.    VERILY,  I  SAY  UNTO  YOU,  THEY  HAVE  THEIR  REWARD." 

—  Matt.  vi.  16. 

THE  age  in  which  it  was  the  lot  of  Christ  to  live 
when  on  the  earth  was  eminently  a  formalistic 
one.  In  Palestine  the  Pharisee  held  sway ;  and  the 
Pharisee  was  the  highest  expression  of  show  and 
formalism.  He  belonged  to  a  class  whose  great  ob- 
ject was  to  seem  to  be  good.  He  strove  by  all  meth- 
ods known  to  cnnning  and  artifice  to  impress  people 
with  a  sense  of  his  sanctity.  To  this  his  dress,  his 
mannerism  of  speech  and  bearing,  his  zeal  and  indus- 
try, alike  tended.  His  hfe  was  essentially  a  false  one  ; 
and  religion,  if  loved  at  all,  was  loved  chiefly  because 
it  supplied  the  means  of  his  personal  elevation. 

The  Pharisee  hated  Christ,  not  so  much  because  he 
claimed  to  be  the  Christ,  but  because  one  so  Unlike 
himself  should  claim  to  be  the  long-expected  Messiah. 
It  was  the  simplicity  and  reality  of  the  Saviour's 
piety  which  provoked  and  enraged  him.     He  saw  at 

59 


60  THE   DANGER  AND   WICKEDNESS   OF 

a  glance  that  Jesus  was  totally  unlike  and  antagonis- 
tic to  himself  and  his  class ;  and  that,  if  Christianity 
should  prevail,  Phariseeism  must  go  down.  If  the 
Nazarene  was  right,  then  he  and  his  companions  were 
all  wrong ;  and  he  knew  that  the  people  would  soon 
perceive  it.  So  long  as  Christ  lived,  so  long  as  he 
was  moving  about  among  the  people,  that  system  of 
scriptural  interpretation,  and  that  type  of  piety  which 
was  the  pride  and  strength  of  the  Pharisaical  class, 
were  unsafe.  To  kill  Christ,  was,  therefore,  the  only 
way,  at  least  the  quickest  and  surest  way,  of  saving 
themselves.  They  watched  him,  therefore  ;  they  put 
spies  upon  his  track  ;  they  dogged  him  at  every  turn  ; 
they  stretched  wires  across  his  path  to  trip  him.  At 
last,  and  because  the  perfectness  of  his  teaching  and 
conduct  drove  them  to  it,  they  made  up  a  lie  against 
him,  bribed  one  of  his  own  followers  to  betray  him, 
and  so  murdered  him. 

My  object,  to-day,  is  to  hold  up  before  you,  as 
something  to  shun,  a  piety  of  mere  habit,  of  form,  of 
feature,  of  appearance.  There  is  a  vast  difference 
between  an  orthodox  Pharisee  and  an  orthodox  Chris- 
tian. An  evangelical  who  is  evangelical  only  in  the 
form  of  his  prayers,  in  the  intellectual  cast  of  his 
mind,  is  the  greatest  impediment  that  the  gospel  has 
to  overcome  to-day.  Such  an  obstacle  is  the  best 
for  his  purpose  that  Satan  can  heave  up  in  the  path  of 
advancing  truth.  What  we  need  is,  not  more  appear- 
ance of  piety,  but  piety  ;  not  more  professors  and  pro- 
fessing, but  more  actual  exemplification  of  the  truths 
professed.    The  Divine  Word  needs  an  incarnation  in 


SEEMING  TO   BE  BETTER  THAN  YOU  ARE.       61 

the  person  of  every  man  and  woman  who  nominally 
follows  the  Lord  Jesus.  We  should  prolong,  as  it 
were,  his  presence  on  earth,  and,  by  our  likeness  to 
him,  make  his  stay  perpetual.  In  one  sense,  Christ 
has  left  this  earth ;  that  is,  his  body  is  no  longer  with 
us :  but  in  a  larger  sense  he  is  still  with  us,  and  will 
continue  to  be  while  there  is  a  single  soul  that  thinks 
as  he  thinks,  and  feels  toward  man  and  God  as  he 
feels.  Seeming  is  weakness  ;  being  is  strength.  All 
exaggeration  of  piety  has,  in  the  long-run,  a  disastrous 
result.  When  promise  exceeds  performance  ;  when 
verbal  consecration  is  great,  and  actual  consecration  is 
small;  when  great  expectations  are  raised,  only  to  be 
disappointed,  —  then  may  all  who  sincerely  desire  the 
progress  of  religious  principles  be  alarmed.  Whoever 
serves  God  only  or  chiefly  in  appearance  is  his  worst 
foe.     Christians  should  be  what  they  seem. 

Now,  I  ask  you  to  observe  what  a  Christian  has  in 
appearance.  A  professor  has,  in  the  first  place,  a 
knowledge  of  sin.  His  every  act  and  word  says  it. 
He  declares  that  he  understands  it  in  its  cause  and  its 
effect.  To  him  it  is  no  vague  and  indefinite  element, 
but  a  deadly  and  active  agent,  working  evil,  and  evil 
only.  He  has  observed  its  effect  on  others,  and  also 
noted  its  influence  on  himself.  Others  may  be  de- 
ceived: he  cannot  be.  The  marks  of  its  teeth  are 
on  him,  and  he  never  can  forget.  Others  may  play 
and  dally  with  it ;  he  never  :  others  may  be  amused 
and  deluded  by  its  fair  or  grotesque  appearance  ;  but, 
through  every  mask  it  assumes,  he  sees  and  recog- 
nizes the  glitter  of  its  deadly  eyes.     There  is  not  a 


62  THE  DANGER  AND  WICKEDNESS  OF 

man  here,  I  suppose,  but  tliat  regards  sin  in  its  coarser 
forms  as  detestable,  but  that,  in  a  general  sense,  con- 
demns it.  But  the  Christian  is  a  man  whose  knowledge 
goes  farther  than  this.  He  sees  not  only  that  it  is  de- 
testable, but  that  it  is  dangerous.  To  him  it  is  not 
merely  a  shadow  darkening  the  sweet  light  of  the 
world :  it  is  a  miasma,  a  pestilence,  carrying  con- 
tagion and  blight  to  all  that  is  healthy  and  pure  and 
noble  on  the  earth.  Its  presence  is  plague;  its  touch 
is  leprosy. 

Now,  a  man  with  such  knowledge,  such  swift  and 
far-reaching  discernment,  must  be  affected  by  it.  His 
thought,  his  speech,  his  conduct,  are  not  as  are 
the  thought  and  speech  and  conduct  of  other  men. 
His  intelligence  is  too  close,  too  accurate,  too  over- 
whelming, to  leave  him  any  election.  He  must  op- 
pose, he  must  abhor,  he  must  fight  it.  His  knowledge 
begets  an  antagonism  which  is  irrepressible.  Wher- 
ever met,  in  whatever  form,  he  is  for  its  overthrow 
and  annihilation.  His  life  becomes  a  warfare,  his 
years  a  crusade.  He  makes  no  compromises ;  he  ac- 
cepts no  truce  ;  he  consents  to  no  surrender.  If  he 
yields,  it  is  only  to  superior  force.  If  he  dies,  his 
dying  thought  is  hostility;  his  dying  exclamation, 
"  Lord,  how  long,  how  long  ?  " 

In  addition  to  his  knowledge  of  sin,  the  Christian, 
in  appearance,  is  inspired  by  nobler  motives  than 
other  men. 

The  world  at  least  is  honest.  The  unconverted 
make  no  profession  of  extraordinary  honesty.  The 
unconverted  man  in  business  or  pleasure  acknowl- 


SEEMING   TO   BE   BETTER  THAN   YOU  ARE.        03 

edges  no  higher  motive  than  self.  The  throne  he 
builds  is  for  himself  or  his  children  :  his  empire  is 
this  world  ;  beyond  the  grave  he  has  no  possession  : 
this  he  confesses.  His  wreath  is  a  wreath  which  will 
fade,  his  mansion  a  residence  which  will  one  day 
stand  tenantless.  His  ear  is  content  with  the  music 
of  this  world,  and  his  heart  beats  to  the  impulses  of 
this  life  alone. 

Not  so  with  the  Christian.  He  lays  claim  to  a  su- 
perior virtue.  He  aspires  to  a  higher  throne,  and  to 
a  mansion  beyond  the  gates  of  pearl,  whose  doors 
will  never  be  closed,  whose  chambers  will  never  be 
silent. 

He  mingles,  it  is  true,  with  the  affairs  of  the  mul- 
titude ;  but  he  mingles  as  salt,  to  savor  and  purify 
them.  His  plans  and  actions  enter  into  the  bulk  of 
human  effort ;  but  they  enter  as  leaven  does  when  it 
is  kneaded  into  the  unprepared  loaf.  He  is  the  buoy- 
ant, airy  element  in  the  heavy,  inert  mass  of  materi- 
alism around  him.  To  the  Christian,  in  appearance 
at  least,  self  is  not  the  centre  and  circumference  of 
his  ambition.  His  thoughts  fly  out  of  and  far  beyond 
himself.  Along  lines  of  spiritual  electrology  he  sends 
and  receives  messages  from  the  skies.  Unfledged 
and  caged,  his  hopes  formerly  were  undeveloped  and 
imprisoned :  now  grown  and  uncaged,  with  wings 
which  gather  gold,  and  grow  their  plumage  as  they 
soar,  his  hopes  traverse  the  utmost  heavens,  refusing 
to  breathe  the  heavy  atmosphere  near  the  earth.  No 
one  can  describe  the  influence  of  this  abnegation  — 
this  living  outside  of  self  —  upon  a  soul.     To  feel 


64  THE   DANGER  AND   WICKEDNESS   OF 

that  you  have  been  "  bought  with  a  price  ;  "  that 
you  own  nothing  of  your  own  right,  but  are  holding 
all  in  trust  for  God  ;  to  lay  your  body  with  its  capaci- 
ties, your  mind  Avith  its  every  faculty,  your  wealtli 
with  its  influence,  as  a  living  sacrifice  upon  the 
altar  of  your  faith,  —  this  must  be  felt  to  be  known. 
Sensation  is  the  sole  avenue  to  knowledGfe  in  this  di- 
rection.  Now,  a  Christian  is  a  person  who  professes 
to  do  all  this.  He  is  in  Christ  as  a  branch  in  the 
vine,  not  merely  connected,  not  merely  dependent 
upon  him,  but  absolutely  of  and  in  him.  He  is  not  a 
separate  organism  by  himself.  He  has  been  absorbed 
as  a  part  in  the  greater  organism  of  the  whole.  He 
has  surrendered ;  he  has  ''  lost "  his  own  life ;  he 
is  "  hid  with  Christ  in  God."  The  effulgence  of 
the  "  Light  of  the  world  "  is  around  him  ;  and,  in  the 
glory  of  the  greater,  the  glory  of  the  lesser  fades 
away. 

Furthermore,  he  professes  that  a  change  has  come 
over  his  motives.  With  his  emancipation  from  self, 
an  enlargement  in  his  sympathies  occurred.  His 
brotherhood  with  Christ  elects  him  to  a  brotherhood 
with  the  entire  race.  Adopted  into  the  family  of 
God,  he  is  inspired  with  the  sentiment  of  humanity. 
With  every  tribe  and  race,  with  every  grade  of  cul- 
ture, with  men  of  every  color,  he  is  a  full  man  and 
brother.  This  thought  is  the  parent  of  all  true  mis- 
sionary enterprise  :  it  mingles  as  one  of  the  inspiring 
causes  of  prayer  and  effort  for  the  world's  conver- 
sion ;  it  swells  in  the  melody  of  every  hymn.  The 
Christian   is  one,  then,  who  professedly  contributes 


SEEMII^G  TO   BE  BETTER  THAN    YOU  ARE.       65 

into  the  world's  best  growth,  and  unto  whose  growth 
the  whole  world  contributes.  Like  a  flower,  he  gath- 
ers sweetness  from  all  sides,  and  yields  it  forth  in  all 
directions.  Himself  the  centre  and  recipient  of  min- 
istries not  a  feAV,  he  ministers,  in  turn,  unto  multitudes. 
Belonging  to  Christ,  he  belongs  to  everybody ;  and, 
being  in  Christ,  all  things  belong  to  him. 

My  friends,  has  any  such  change  as  this,  in  reality, 
passed  over  us  ?  Has  the  turbidness  of  our  natural 
dispositions  been  precipitated  ?  and  do  we  reflect  the 
azure  of  such  a  sky?  Is  there  a  tribe  of  men  on 
the  face  of  the  earth  unto  whom  we  do  not  give  the 
warm  recognition  of  our  kinship  ?  Is  there  a  sot 
that  staggers  along  the  street  over  whose  downfall 
we  do  not  grieve  as  over  the  wreck  of  one  re- 
lated to  us?  Do  our  hopes  so  magnetize  the  heav- 
ens, that  we  are  lifted  by  the  power  of  their  attrac- 
tion ?  or  are  we  drawn  by  the  pressure  of  a  grosser 
law  downward  ?  Have  we  surrendered  our  owner- 
ship in  ourselves  in  fact,  or  only  in  appearance  ?  and 
given  Christ  a  nominal  title  to  our  property,  while 
we  appropriate  all  the  income  ?  Are  our  motives 
really  higher  than  the  motives  of  non-professors  ?  or 
do  we,  when  you  reduce  it  to  the  last  analysis,  think 
and  act,  scheme  and  traflic,  spend  and  amass,  on  the 
same  level  with  them  ?  Are  we  walking  in  truths  or 
in  a  fatal  delusion  and  a  vain  show  ?  The  fig-tree  is 
tall  and  shapely,  and  it  flouts  its  foHage  bravely  ;  but 
is  it  barren  in  the  eyes  of  the  Master  when  he  comes 
expecting  fruit  ? 

One  more  thing  I  will  mention  which  a  professor 


66  THE   DANGER   AND   WICKEDNESS   OP 

has  in  appearance :  it  is  a  desire  to  grow  in  grace^  or 
in  the  favor  of  God. 

The  Christian  lays  claim  to  a  divine  ambition  :  it  is 
to  be  like  God.  The  Bible  abounds  with  passages 
which  are  as  spurs  in  either  flank  of  this  desire. 
There  are  in  him  longings  to  approach  nearer  to  God 
in  the  essential  elements  of  character.  He  is  not 
content  with  that  development  which  the  world  de- 
mands :  he  aspires  to  that  which  the  heavens  require. 
If  he  studies  his  own  mind,  it  is  to  discern  how  near- 
ly it  has  become  like  the  mind  of  Christ.  If  he  con- 
templates his  body,  he  beholds  it  as  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  If  his  affections  are  the  subject  of  his 
meditation,  he  remembers  that  wife  and  child,  lover 
and  friend,  are  to  be  held  less  worthy  than  Jesus. 
His  whole  nature  is  planted  in  Christ,  as  the  banyan- 
tree  is  planted  in  the  earth  ;  and,  like  its  branches,  all 
the  growth  and  outgoings  of  his  soul  return,  and  form 
their  union  with  the  soil  in  which  the  parent  root  is 
embedded,  and  by  which  all  are  nourished. 

To  the  Christian  no  thought  can  be  more  cheerful, 
no  reflection  more  sweet,  than  this  :  ''  I  am  orrowinof 
more  and  more  like  God  ;  I  am  growing  in  his  favor  ; 
I  am  growing  in  his  likeness."  To  the  young  it  is 
a  dim  and  bewildering  thought ;  to  the  aged  it  is  a 
glowing  realization.  To  the  one  class,  heaven  is  re- 
mote ;  a  land  to  read  of,  to  dream  of,  to  speculate 
about;  a  land  lying  low  down  in  the  west,  whose 
shining  shore  is  beaten  by  unseen  waves :  to  the 
other  it  is  not  remote,  but  nigh.  They  know  they 
are  near  to  it,  even  as  sailors  in  southern  seas  know 


SEEMING  TO   BE  BETTER  THAN  YOU   ARE.        67 

they  are  close  upon  an  island  at  early  dawn  by 
the  presence  of  fragrant  boughs  on  the  water,  the 
perfume  of  flowers  in  the  air,  and  the  flash  of  tropic 
birds  through  the  purpling  mist.  So  the  aged  Chris- 
tian, sailing  out  of  the  darkness  of  his  mortal  life, 
meets  many  premonitions  of  heaven  as  he  draws 
near  to  it,  and  watches  with  holy  and  delightful  sen- 
sations for  the  moment  when  over  the  waters  of 
death  the  effulgence  of  its  outstreaming  glory  shall 
flash  upon  him  ;  and  he  murmurs,  "  Lord,  I  shall 
be  content  when  I  sleep,  and  awake  in  thy  like- 
ness." 

My  friends,  wdiat  joy  is  equal  to  the  joy  you  have 
when  you  feel  that  you  are  growing  better?  When  a 
man  can  feel  that  he  has  mastered,  or  is  surely  mas- 
tering, some  wicked  passion ;  when  he  can  feel  that 
he  is  getting  the  better  of  some  appetite  which  had 
endangered  his  usefulness  and  the  happiness  of  his 
family;  when  he  can  feel  temptation  is  losing  its 
power  over  him,  and  victories  are  being  more  easily 
won ;  when  he  can  feel  the  good  impidses  of  his  soul 
growing  day  by  day  stronger,  and  the  evil  day  by 
day  weaker,  —  he  is  then  fast  verging  on  a  happiness 
the  like  of  which  his  soul  never  felt.  The  man  with 
such  an  experience  has  a  right  to  exult.  He  has  a 
right  to  hold  up  his  head  among  men  and  before 
God.  He  is  no  longer  in  bondage.  The  fetters 
which  lie  at  his  feet  witness  to  his  libertj^  Sin  has 
no  longer  dominion  over  him.  He  has  conquered 
that  which  conquered  the  world.  Behind  him,  cap- 
tivity walks  a  captive ;  and  in  the  years  to  come  his 


68  THE  DANGER  AND  WICKEDNESS   OF 

soul  shall  have  a  throne  high-lifted  and  prominent 
amid  the  thrones  of  heaven. 

Now,  such  a  man  is  growing  in  the  grace  and  favor 
of  God.  God  regards  him  with  complacent  affection. 
Through  him  he  manifests  his  glory.  For  how  does 
God  manifest  his  glory  ?  Is  it  through  doctrines  and 
formulas  and  creeds  ?  —  through  confessions  of  faith, 
and  covenants  of  man's  make  ?  —  words,  mere  words  ? 
No.  The  man  who  grows  in  virtue,  in  purity  of  mo- 
tive, in  unselfishness  of  purpose,  in  honesty  with  his 
fellows ;  the  woman  who  grows  in  patience,  in  moral 
whiteness,  in  a  Mary-like  love  for  the  Master, — 
these  are  the  mediums  through  which  God  reveals 
his  nature  and  the  workings  of  his  truth.  If  every 
creed  and  theological  dogma  were  blown  to  the  winds, 
and  lost  to  the  memory  of  men,  while  such  men  and 
women  lived,  God  would  not  lack  a  medium  of  ex- 
pression, or  the  world  testimony  as  to  the  truth  as  it 
is  in  Jesus.  The  Christ-like  spirit,  even  more  than 
the  Christ-spoken  letter,  is  what  we  and  all  the  world 
need.  We  want  fruitfulness  on  our  barren  fig-trees, 
and  men  who  wiU  go  in  and  eat  with,  as  well  as  pray 
for,  the  publicans.  We  want  piety  that  shall  not  be 
ashamed  to  take  vice  by  the  hand,  and  lead  it  up  to 
its  own  level.  We  want  honesty  inspired  by  some- 
thing higher  than  fear  of  the  jail.  We  want  virtue 
strong,  tender,  and  self-poised  enough  to  send  hyper- 
critical cruelty  away  when  it  draws  its  hateful  circle 
around  the  weak  and  the  wicked,  and  to  stand  up 
and  say  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land, 
"  There   is   hope   for   the  thief  and  the  wanton  in 


SEEMING  TO  BE   BETTER  THAN   YOU   ARE.        69 

Jesus."  We  have  had  enough  of  words  :  they  have 
contributed  more  to  the  fighting  than  they  have  to 
the  piety  of  the  world.  We  want  now  hxbors  of 
love ;  virtue  strong  enough  to  stand  on  its  own  feet, 
and  filled  with  self-denying  affection  for  God  and 
man. 

I  have  called  your  attention  to  three  things,  which, 
in  appearance,  a  professing  Christian  has,  —  a  knowl- 
edge of  sin,  higher  motives  than  other  men,  and  a 
desire  to  grow  in  the  favor  of  God.  Now,  my 
friends,  a  person  who  makes  claim  to  such  knowl- 
edge, who  professes  such  motives,  and  declares  that 
he  is  pervaded  with  such  a  desire,  is  a  very  egotistical 
or  a  very  good  man.  There  are  but  three  things 
such  a  man  can  possibly  be.  He  is  either  self- 
deceived,  a  mere  pretender,  or  an  extraordinary  char- 
acter. He  lays  claim  to  so  much,  he  makes  profes- 
sion of  so  much,  that  he  must  be  either  deluded,  a 
hypocrite,  or  the  possessor,  to  an  unusual  extent,  of 
the  virtue  and  knowledge  which  adorn  a  high  order 
of  development.  His  life  is  either  a  remarkable  life, 
or  it  is  the  embodiment  of  the  most  detestable  hypoc- 
risy in  the  world. 

Supposing  it  to  be  the  latter,  let  us  try  to  analyze 
its  cause. 

I  remark,  then,  that  a  religious  life,  in  appearance, 
may  be  the  result  of  two  widely-different  causes. 

First,  It  may  be  the  result  of  design. 

The  world,  in  the  civilized  sections  of  it,  has  ad- 
vanced so  far  in  its  estimation  of  right  and  wrong, 
that  virtue  pays.     Business,  in  its  lower  and  most 


70  THE  DANGER  AND   WICKEDNESS  OF 

selfish  instincts,  smiles  on  honesty  ;  it  courts  morality ; 
it  pays  well  for  character.  There  is  not  a  bnsiness-man 
here  who  does  not  know,  that,  the  more  men  have  con- 
fidence in  his  integrity,  the  better  he  is  off  in  a  worldly 
point  of  view.  The  best  reputation  a  business-man 
can  have  is  a  reputation  for  uprightness.  This  stands 
him  well  in  hand  when  many  other  things  fail.  A 
young  man  who  cannot  inspire  men  with  this  confi- 
dence in  him  might  as  well  retire  from  commercial 
life,  and  go  upon  the  race-course,  or  join  a  travelling- 
circus.  Neither  the  money  his  father  may  leave  him, 
nor  the  good  name  of  his  father,  nor  any  low  cun- 
ning and  tricker}^,  can  make  up  his  loss  if  he  lacks 
this.  The  same  is  true  in  respect  to  one's  social  re- 
lations. A  gross  man,  a  man  heavy  with  the  mire 
of  licentious  indulgence,  a  young  man  who  consorts 
with  the  reckless  and  the  immoral,  must  conceal  his 
vices ;  he  must  rouge  the  red  and  bloated  countenance 
of  his  habits  with  the  preparation  of  secrecy :  deceit 
is  the  necessity  of  his  life,  hypocrisy  the  refuge  of 
his  reputation.  He  must  feign  to  be  better  than  he 
is  in  order  to  escape  universal  condemnation.  I  do 
not  doubt  but  that  society  is  full  of  this  virtue  only 
in  appearance,  —  this  lustre  and  polish  on  the  surface, 
when  all  is  rotten  at  the  core.  Like  the  bark  on  a 
tree,  this  covering  of  morality  is  the  last  to  crack 
and  fall  off  from  a  man.  The  inward  fibre  of  his  life 
is  reduced  to  a  moral  punk  long  before  his  evil  habits 
have  wormed  themselves  outward  to  the  eyes  of  men. 
I  do  not  wish  to  indulge  in  any  captious  or  morbid 
reflections  ;  for  I  believe  that  the  eyes  and  hearts  of 


SEEMING  TO   BE   BETTER  THAN  YOU  ARE.        71 

most  men  are  turned  toward  the  good  and  the  true. 
I  believe  the  race  is  being  lifted,  and  that  the  moral 
effort  and  hopes  of  the  race  are  setting  strongly  on 
the  flood  ;  but  I  doubt  if  any  such  blow  could  be  de- 
livered at  public  confidence  in  men,  any  such  shock 
given  our  trust,  as  it  would  receive  should  the 
hearts  of  men  be  uncovered,  and  the  secrets  of  their 
lives  stand  exposed.  I  do  not  doubt  that  many  a 
life,  like  huge  trees  I  have  seen  in  the  northern 
woods,  would  be  found  to  be  worm-eaten,  and  per- 
forated through  and  through,  as  soon  as  the  resinous 
bark  was  removed.  There  is  too  high  a  premium  on 
hypocrisy,  and  too  much  necessity  for  disguise,  I  fear, 
not  to  have  hypocris}^,  and  premeditated  hypocrisy 
at  that,  abound. 

Some,  therefore,  I  have  no  doubt,  are  cautious  and 
deceitful  by  design.  Their  virtue  is  not  merely  in 
appearance,  but  prompted  by  low  cunning  and  the 
sheerest  selfishness  imaginable. 

Second,  A  religious  life  in  appearance  may  be  the 
result  of  habit.  There  is  a  certain  vis  inertia  in  human 
nature  which  is  very  hard  to  overcome.  Once  let  a 
person  get  settled  down  into  any  thing,  let  him  once 
fairly  get  at  rest  in  any  position  of  mind,  and  it  is 
very  difficult  to  start  him.  Into  such  a  fixed,  un- 
plastic,  and  formalistic  state  a  person  may  fall  in  re- 
spect to  his  religious  condition,  —  a  state  of  rebellious 
apathy  and  cool  assurance,  in  which,  without  show- 
ing a  single  evidence  of  piety,  he  shall  take  it  for 
granted  that  he  is  pious.  This  taking  every  thing 
for  granted  in  respect  to  our  religious  condition  is 


72  THE  DANGER  AND  WICKEDNESS  OF 

very  dangerous  business  at  times :  it  deadens  con- 
science, and  blinds  the  eyes  of  the  soul  to  its  defects ; 
it  stops  the  ears  to  those  warnings  which  God  sends 
forth,  as  he  sends  thunders  into  the  atmosphere  by 
which  men  are  advertised  of  the  coming  of  tempest, 
and  made  sensible  of  a  power  greater  than  themselves  ; 
it  drugs  the  moral  sense,  until  the  eyes  of  our  watch- 
fulness are  heavy,  and  we  sit  and  sleep  in  the  midst 
of  circling  perils,  and  see  not  what  foes  are  creeping 
up  with  malicious  stealth,  with  their  daggers  drawn 
to  stab  us.  Then  it  is  that  prayer  becomes  a  mere 
form,  and  loses  all  saving  force,  and  hastens  us  on- 
ward toward  the  awful  catastrophe  which  it  is  in- 
tended of  God  to  prevent.  False  security  is  peril 
in  the  superlative  sense.  Prayer  itself  is  harmful  if 
it  eases  conscience  when  conscience  should  be  alarmed ; 
if  it  inspires  with  hope  when  the  man  should  be  run- 
ning about  in  despair ;  if  it  enables  him  to  drown 
remorse  when  its  upbraidings  should  so  and  like 
thunder  in  his  ears ;  if  it  lulls  and  soothes  a  man 
when  he  should  be  stimulated  and  aroused.  I  believe 
it  possible  for  a  professor  to  be  self-deceived  without 
knowing  it :  the  very  exactness  with  which  he  per- 
forms his  duty  may  become  to  him  a  matter  of  pride 
and  self-righteousness,  —  a  matter  of  reliance.  Out- 
wardly, he  has  aU  that  any  have.  He  does  the  same 
things  that  other  professors  do,  uses  the  same  words 
that  they  use  ;  and  why  is  he  not  like  them  ?  If  they 
are  not  alarmed,  why  need  he  be  ?  If  they  are  doing 
their  duty,  why  is  he  not  ?  And  yet  all  the  while 
there  is  a  certain  emptiness  in  his  experience,  a  cer- 


SEEMING  TO  BE  BETTEE  THAN  YOU  ARE.        73 

tain  joy-lacking  element  in  his  life,  which  he  feels, 
and  at  times  wonders  at.  His  life  is  a  wretched, 
dragging  sort  of  a  life,  after  all.  He  does  not  run  the 
race  as  one  whose  loins  are  girded,  and  whose  hopes 
are  high  ;  but  he  trails  with  a  mechanical  movement 
around  the  course,  as  one  who  runs  because  it  is  his 
lot  to  run,  and  not  because  he  has  any  heart  in  it. 

There  is  no  life  so  irksome,  friends,  as  the  life  of  a 
professor  who  is  a  disciple  only  in  appearance.  To 
the  man  who  is  h3^pocritical  by  design,  there  is  a 
certain  zest  in  his  imposition  on  mankind.  There  is 
need  of  adroitness  and  shrewd  cunning  in  his  game, 
and,  at  times,  of  not  a  little  boldness.  This  stimu- 
lates him,  and  keeps  him  spry  and  on  the  alert.  His 
delight  is  the  delight  of  a  devil,  it  is  true  ;  but  it  is 
delight  nevertheless,  and  often  keen  and  pungent. 
Not  so  with  the  self-deceived  professor,  — 'a  disciple 
only  in  outward  habit.  His  life  is  a  dull  routine  of 
duties,  all  the  more  irksome  because  faithfully  per- 
formed. Each  day  is  a  treadmill,  with  its  cheerless 
necessity  of  tiresome  motion.  Stop  he  cannot ;  enjoy 
he  cannot.  He  has  no  faith  in  what  he  pretends  to 
believe,  and  wonders  how  people  can  talk  so  enthusi- 
astically of  their  experience  as  some  do. 

Now,  I  think,  if  we  closely  observe  ourselves,  the 
best  of  us  will  find  a  tendency  in  us  to  lapse  into 
this  lethargic  state,  into  this  amiable  routine  of 
pious  appearances.  The  frankness  and  candor  in 
confession  of  sin,  and  of  unsatisfactory  spiritual  con- 
dition, which,  if  practised,  would  go  far  to  prevent 
it  altogether,  are  very  seldom  seen  or  heard.    There  is 

4 


74  THE  DANGER  AND   WICKEDNESS  OF 

a  certain  pressure  in  religious  circles  to  make  every- 
body feel  that  he  must  call  himself  a  saint,  or  lose 
caste.  Even  young  converts,  before  examining-com- 
mittees,  labor  under  the  impression  that  they  are  to 
answer  "  Yes  "  to  every  question  touching  spiritual  de- 
velopment, no  matter  how  unreasonable  is  the  suppo- 
sition upon  which  it  is  based.  I  have  heard  ques- 
tions propounded  to  converts  of  four  weeks'  standing 
to  which  few  professors  of  ten  years'  experience 
could  affirmatively  respond,  and  yet,  under  the  press- 
ure of  this  same  sentiment,  promptly  answered. 
A  word  or  two  upon  this  point.  Now,  there  are 
some  experiences  which  come  to  one  at  conversion, 
and  others  come  only  through  the  processes  of  sancti- 
fication ;  and  no  pastor  or  committee  has  a  right  to 
put  a  question  which  shall  force  the  candidate,  in 
order  to  avoid  embarrassment,  to  declare  that  a 
"  grain  of  mustard-seed,  which  is  the  smallest  of  all 
seeds,"  is  a  mighty  tree,  so  strong,  so  vast,  so  per- 
fectly developed,  that  the  birds  of  heaven  come  and 
make  it  their  home. 

If  there  is  one  thing  which  we  need  to  guard 
our  young  people  against,  it  is  a  false  standard  of 
spiritual  development,  and  the  exaggeration  of  per- 
sonal attainments  in  piety.  I  have  no  sympathy 
with  a  forcing  process  in  reference  to  young  profess- 
ors, any  more  than  in  reference  to  young  horses.  A 
man  may  assert  before  a  committee  that  he  feels  so 
and  so,  has  such  and  such  views,  which  views  and 
feelings  can  only  come  through  a  long  lapse  of  years 
in  Christian  failure  and  victory ;  and  all  the  while  he 


SEEMING  TO   BE  BETTER  THAN  YOU  ARE.       75 

is  exaggerating  his  spiritual  attainment.  There  are 
feelings  and  experiences  which  a  young  girl  of  seven- 
teen can  have ;  and  there  are  others  which  none  but 
the  mothers  in  Israel,  who  have  lived  and  suffered 
many  weary  years,  can  have  :  and  this  should  be  well 
understood.  It  is  unseemly  for  the  rough  and  un- 
finished block,  but  just  lifted  from  the  quarry-pit,  to 
compare  itself  with  a  statue  which  the  patient  chis- 
elling of  many  months  has  dressed  into  perfect  sym- 
metry ;  and  we  all  know  how  rough  the  nature  of 
man  is  at  the  first,  and  how  slowly  it  grows  into  the 
"  perfect  stature  of  Christ "  under  the  gracious  ap- 
plication of  God's  grace. 

The  age  in  which  we  live  is  a  marked  one  in  ref- 
erence to  what  it  professes.  What  it  needs  is  a  dem- 
onstration that  its  virtue  is  equal  to  its  profession. 
No  one  has  a  right  to  seem  to  be  better  than  he  is. 
To  assume  by  tone  or  looks,  in  prayer  or  exhorta- 
tion, an  anxiety  for  souls  Avhich  you  do  not  feel,  a 
piety  which  you  do  not  at  heart  have,  is  worse  than 
bearing  false  witness  against  your  neighbor :  it  is 
bearing  false  witness  against  your  own  soul  and 
against  Christ  himself.  I  search  in  vain  for  words 
with  which  to  lift  and  swing  the  weight  of  my 
detestation,  and  bring  it  down  upon  the  head  of 
cant  and  pious  seeming.  What  we  need  at  this 
time  in  the  Church  is  a  broad-chested,  open-handed, 
frank-faced  piety,  unassuming  and  honest,  ready  to 
confess  its  failings  and  to  remedy  them.  And  the 
best  rule  that  all  of  us,  young  or  old,  can  adopt,  is 
this  :  "  I  will  be  as  good  as  I  seem,  and  I  will  seem  to 


76  THE  DANGER  AND  WICKEDNESS   OF 

be  no  better  than  I  am."  Such  a  sentiment,  lived  up 
to,  would  carry  us  higher  up  the  plane  of  Godlike- 
ness  than  one  might  at  first  think. 

My  friends,  we  are  all  passing  onward  and  upward 
to  God.  There  is  to  us  no  resting  or  stopping  until 
we  stand  before  him.  The  day  cometh  when  we 
shall  have  to  give  an  account  of  ourselves.  We  are 
opaque  now ;  but  by  and  by  we  shall  be  transparent 
to  all  eyes,  and  whatever  is  in  us  of  evil  will  be  seen. 
Here  we  can  mask ;  here  we  can  wear  veils  ;  here  we 
can  conceal  and  simulate  :  it  will  not  be  so  in  the 
hereafter.  Before  our  destiny  is  fixed,  we  must  be 
weighed.  The  years  drift  us  like  a  swift  tide.  One 
by  one,  each  in  his  own  order  and  time,  we  are  pass- 
ing into  a  world  and  presence  where  appearances 
avail  nothing,  but  where  each  will  stand  naked  before 
the  scrutiny  of  God.  I  ask  you  to  anticipate  that 
hour.  I  place  }- ou  in  thought  before  that  great  tri- 
bunal. Do  you  feel  the  concentration  of  eyes  upon 
30U ?  Do  3"ou  feel  the  penetration  of  their  unerring 
inspection  ?  Do  you  feel  the  opening  up  of  your 
thoughts,  and  revelation  of  your  characters,  before 
God  ?  Do  you  feel  the  observation  of  heaven  cen- 
tring upon  you  ?  Do  you  feel  the  gaze  of  all  its  eyes  ; 
the  vision  of  countless  faces ;  the  open,  steady  look 
of  the  great  multitude  ?  If  so,  how  is  it  with  you  ? 
Does  your  soul,  in  the  strength  of  conscious  rectitude, 
in  the  boldness  of  unflinching  integrity,  stand  unap- 
palled  ?  If  so,  rejoice  ;  for  your  feet  are  on  the 
summit  of  the  highest  and  most  blessed  realization 
possible  unto  man. 


SEEMING  TO   BE  BETTER  THAN  YOU  ARE.        77 

For  one,  I  hold  myself  up  to  this  supreme  test.  I 
count  up  my  chances  beforehand.  No  self-decep- 
tion for  me  ;  no  delusion  of  pious  habits ;  no  self- 
flattery  through  godly  seeming ;  no  faith  in  an  un- 
exemplified  j)i'of6ssion :  tliese  are  not  masonry  to 
stand  in  the  day  of  flood  and  the  outpoured  violence 
of  that  direful  wind  of  which  we  are  all  warned.  If 
the  future  were  black,  the  soul,  nevertheless,  might 
gather  strength  by  looking  steadily  into  its  eyes  :  but 
cowardice  is  the  weakest  and  meanest  of  all  refuges  ; 
and  he  who  shrinks  from  facing  his  responsibility  be- 
fore God  ;  who  shrinks  from  giving  personal  atten- 
tion touching  God's  feeling  toward  him ;  who  thrusts 
religion  aside  as  an  unpleasant  subject  until  death 
stands  by  his  bed,  fills  the  chamber  with  blackness, 
and  peoples  it  with  horrible  forebodings,  —  such  a  man 
acts  like  a  fool.  Pardon  the  epithet.  I  use  it  be- 
cause of  its  accuracy  ;  for  I  submit  to  you  all,  —  and 
I  wish  all  of  you  to  mentally  answer  yes  or  no,  —  I 
submit,  if  he  is  not  a  fool  who  sees  and  admits  an  un- 
questionable danger  ahead,  and  yet  makes  no  effort, 
not  the  least,  to  avoid  it. 

I  X3ray  you  to  understand  that  I  lay  claim  to  no 
larger  share  of  caution  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  ordi- 
nary men ;  and  yet  I  am  too  wise  and  cautious,  I 
trust,  for  that.  I  cannot  afford  to  stumble  carelessly, 
and  with  shut  eyes,  into  the  judgment.  I  cannot  afford 
to  be  sucked  into  the  rapids  without  a  paddle  in  my 
hand.  I  wish  to  know,  before  my  face  is  moist  with 
the  spray  of  that  river  in  which  so  many  men  are 
wrecked,  where  the  falls  are,  and  on  which  bank  stand 


78        SEEMING  TO   BE  BETTER  THAN  YOU  ARE. 

the  angels  of  help.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  call  to  them  : 
I  do  call  to  them  daily.  I  expect  to  in  that  moment 
when  I  take  the  plunge.  Something  that  I  cannot 
get  of  myself  must  come  to  me  before  that  hour,  or 
I  shall  not  be  ready.  Some  mercy  must  be  shown 
me,  some  pardon  bestowed,  or  I  shall  stand  guilty 
and  condemned  at  the  great  inspection. 

And  now,  my  people,  with  the  freedom  of  love,  let 
me  caution  you  against  formalism  in  religion,  against 
assumption  and  appearance  in  piety.  Remember 
the  Saviour's  injunction ;  keep  in  mind  his  example. 
Act  better  than  you  can  talk.  Let  your  character  be 
nobler  than  your  speech,  even  as  the  notes  of  some 
sweet  or  sublime  passage  in  music  are  better  than 
the  words.  Live  so  that  your  friends  will  love  you 
more  than  you  deem  yourselves  worthy  to  be  loved  ; 
and  then  you  will,  in  truth,  be  loved  of  God. 


SABBATH  MOBMIMO,  JfOV.  5,  1871. 


SERMON. 


TOPIC.-TRANSITION-PERIODS  IN  RELIGIOUS  GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS. 

"  Think  NOT  THAT  I  AM  come  to  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets: 
I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  — Matt.  V.  17. 

THE  Jews  were  very  jealous  touching  the  Scrip- 
tures. The  sacred  writings  were  cherished  with 
the  utmost  reverence :  the  resources  of  patience  and 
skill  were  taxed  in  the  interest  of  even  their  verbal 
preservation.  As  a  people,  they  were  bound  to  them 
by  innumerable  ties,  the  presence  of  which  we  do  not 
feel  to-day.  Politically  they  were  indebted  to  them 
for  their  very  existence  as  a  nation.  In  them  was 
their  constitution,  the  long  list  of  legislative  en- 
actments, the  judicial  interpretation  and  decisions 
which  explained  and  enforced  these,  and  the  ground 
of  that  wonderful  authority  on  which  was  based  the 
patriarchal  government,  —  the  government  of  a  na- 
tion and  race  through  the  government  of  the  family : 
for  all  this,  and  much  beside,  they  were  indebted 
to  the  Scriptures.  In  these  books  were  also  the 
treasures  of  their  literature,  the  flowering-out  of  the 
nation's  highest  thought  and  emotion.     Within  them, 

79 


80  TEA]SISITION-PERIODS  IN 

as  in  some  noble  gallery,  were  suspended  tlieir  great 
names,  —  Moses,  Elijah,  Solomon,  and  David,  — 
names  tliat  recalled  all  their  past  greatness,  and  sug- 
gested their  future  hope.  To  them  they  turned  for 
their  religious  knowledge,  and  built  upon  their  utter- 
ances the  temple  of  their  faith.  Woe  unto  the  man 
reckless  enough  to  disturb  a  pebble  that  lay  against 
its  base ! 

Nor  was  this  strictness  altogether  wrong.  Indeed, 
every  belief  is  sacred.  Whatever  touches  man  on  the 
heavenward  side  should  be  regarded  with  reverence. 
The  conclusions  of  the  intellect  are  not  necessarily 
vital,  not  necessarily  dear.  A  man  can  be  separated 
from  them,  and  no  great  violence  be  done  his  feelings. 
It  is  otherwise  with  the  heart.  When  a  man's  affec- 
tions have  become  involved,  he  stands  in  a  realm  of 
mystic  connections.  He  is  woven  in  and  meshed  about 
with  many  ties.  From  these  he  cannot  be  sundered 
without  receiving  a  shock  which  imperils  his  moral 
system.  You  cannot  drop  an  emotion  as  you  can  an 
opinion.  It  is  too  late  to  transplant  the  flower  after 
it  has  budded  and  blossomed.  When  thought  has 
ripened  into  conviction,  and  conviction  begot  impulse, 
—  on  the  movement  of  which  the  soul  goes  out,  and  is 
borne  onward,  as  a  great  sliip  on  some  strong  tide,  — 
you  cannot  call  it  back ;  you  cannot  undo  the  pro- 
cesses which  led  to  the  result ;  you  cannot  obliterate 
it  short  of  destruction.  Now,  when  a  soul  has  gone 
out  along  the  line  of  some  faith,  and  made  connection 
with  heaven ;  when  in  hope  and  sympathy,  in  thought 
and  expectation,  it  has  taken  hold  of  the  invisible, 


RELIGIOUS  GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  81 

and  what  seems,  at  least  to  itself,  supreme,  —  it  is  a 
grievous  thing  to  turn  it  back,  and  wrench  it  off  from 
that  unto  which  it  had  come,  and  to  which  it  was 
vitally  united.  That  confidence  which  overlaps  eter- 
nity is  too  blessed  to  be  lost  without  a  dire  struggle 
and  much  suffering.  Doubt  in  respect  to  some  things 
is  but  another  name  for  agony.  Let  suspicion,  for 
instance,  enter  the  bosom  of  love,  and  what  writhings 
and  convulsions  occur!  How  peace,  like  a  frightened 
and  imperilled  bird,  flies  away !  How  mistrust  of 
every  thing  good  follows  close  upon  the  heel  of  doubt 
as  to  what  had  seemed  until  then  the  great  good  !  and 
the  soul  that  had  been  in  all  its  purposes  and  plans, 
its  hopes  and  labors,  like  a  well-built  tower,  crumbles 
into  fragments;  while  its  very  loftiness  serves  only 
to  make  addition  to  the  ruins.  The  re-action  which 
impels  a  soul  from  trust  to  mistrust,  from  faith  to  infi- 
delity, from  a  sense  of  security  to  one  of  danger  or 
incUfterence,  can  produce  nothing  but  wreck.  Even 
the  weaker  class  of  minds,  —  those  that  take  hold 
of  things  feebly;  who  are  not  overstrong  in  their 
inclinations,  or  sanguine  in  their  aspirations,  —  even 
these  suffer,  and  suffer  intensely.  What,  then,  must 
be  the  suffering  experienced  by  strong,  positive  na- 
tures, —  natures  which  ring  themselves  tightly  around 
what  they  love,  and  chng  passionately  to  what  they 
regard  as  dear  and  sacred  !  To  such  men  and  women 
faith  is  a  necessity.  From  it  comes  the  natural  food 
for  their  minds :  it  is  to  their  intellects  what  wine  is 
to  the  blood, — it' fills  it  with  warmth,  and  quickens  it 
into  swift  motion.     It  kindles  their  imagination,  and 

4* 


82  TRANSITION-PEEIODS  IN 

is  to  the  dull  gray  of  ordinary  thought  what  the  flush 
of  morning  is  to  the  slaty  cloud :  it  makes  the  un- 
lovely beautiful,  and  the  commonplace  marvellous. 
It  provides  their  faculties  a  field  in  which  to  exercise  ; 
brings  development  to  their  capacities,  and  room  for 
the  free  and  innocent  play  of  all  their  emotions. 
Now,  when  such  men  and  women  lose  faith  in  God, 
or  (what  is  the  same  thing,  constituted  as  they  are) 
when  they  lose  faith  in  what  they  have  alwaj^s  held  as 
true,  and  leaned  upon  as  something  steadfast  and  per- 
fect ;  when  the  ground  of  all  their  hope  reels  under 
their  feet,  and  they  are  dashed  upon  the  earth,  and 
buried,  as  it  were,  beneath  the  fragments  of  what 
they  had  always  looked  upon  as  a  perfect  temple  and 
a  perfect  refuge,  —  then  are  they  brought  low  indeed. 
I  stood  upon  the  coast  one  day,  crouching  in  the  lee 
of  a  huge  bowlder,  when  the  wind  scooped  great  sheets 
of  water  out  of  the  ocean,  and  blew  them  through  the 
air,  and  the  heavens  were  filled  with  bowlings  and 
shrieks,  and  strange  wild  cries ;  and  standing  there, 
sheltered  in  part  from  the  terrible  tempest,  the  plun- 
ging rain,  and  whistling  sand,  I  saw  a  vessel  part  her 
cables,  and  go  plunging  out  to  sea.  I  knew  from  the 
start  that  there  was  no  chance  for  her.  The  waves 
piled  up  against  her,  and  rolled  over  her  as  if  she 
were  a  log.  Her  masts  were  jerked  out  of  her  as 
though  they  had  been  icicles.  The  sea  and  the 
wind  played  with  her,  and  a  wild  game  they  had  of 
it;  and,  when  they  had  tossed  and  buffeted  her  to 
their  hearts'  content,  they  flung  her  down  into  the 
trough  of  a  great  sea,  and  she  disappeared  in  a  mass 


RELIGIOUS  GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  83 

of  feathery  foam.  She  was  lost.  And  yet,  if  her 
cable  had  held,  she  would  have  outridden  the  gale,  and 
served  her  proper  use  for  years.  And  so  it  is  with 
some  men  and  women  in  respect  to  their  faith  in  the 
Bible  and  God.  So  long  as  it  holds,  they  are  held 
safely ;  but  if  their  faith  gives  way,  if  their  confi- 
dence parts,  they  are  blown  out  into  all  manner  of 
mental  and  moral  tumult,  tossed  and  buifeted  by 
tempestuous  forces,  and  submerged  at  last  in  that 
ocean  which  is  forever  agitated,  and  which  has  no 
bottom. 

It  is  just  at  this  point  that  you  get  a  glimpse  of 
that  grave  responsibility  that  rests  upon  a  religious 
teacher  during  a  period  of  transition,  of  growth,  of 
change  in  public  views  touching  the  interpretation 
of  doctrines  or  church  administration.  How  to  crack 
the  shell,  and  not  destroy  the  germ ;  how  to  pull  up 
the  tares,  and  not  disturb  the  wheat,  in  men's  views  ; 
how  to  properly  describe  cant  and  hypocrisy,  and 
not  grieve  honest  but  mistaken  piety ;  how  to  fully 
and  adequately  advocate  the  new,  without  seeming 
to  underrate  or  slander  the  good  in  the  old,  —  this,  I 
say,  makes  his  responsibility  a  grave  one  ;  and  great 
allowance  in  charity  should  be  made  for  him  whose 
mission  it  is  to  do  this  class  of  work.  It  is  a 
thankless  task  to  shock  insensibility  into  feeling 
when  the  patient  loves  his  paralysis.  It  is  weary 
work  to  climb  up  over  men's  prejudices  when  they 
have  been  accustomed  to  look  upon  them  as  religious 
principles.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  take  some  hoary  fol- 
ly by  the  throat  when  a  crowd  of  respectable  people 


84  TRANSITION-PERIODS  IN 

are  standing  by  and  crying  ont  "  Murder !  "  A  man 
who  hews  on  such  gnarled  and  knotty  timber  is  par- 
donable if  he  strikes  in  deeper  than  the  line,  and  lets 
his  axe  slip  occasionally :  you  cannot  make  smooth 
work  on  such  a  job  always.  The  pubhc  preacher 
should  be  judged  charitably,  and  not  harshly,  in  these 
matters,  where  it  is  easy  to  err ;  where  the  line  of 
propriety  is  ever  changing,  and  no  two  men  would 
agree  as  to  just  where  it  should  be  snapped.  But 
when  every  allowance  has  been  made,  and  the  widest 
possible  margin  of  liberty  of  utterance  granted  that 
can  with  any  show  of  justice  be  claimed,  still  this 
remains  true,  —  that  no  speaker  has  a  moral  right  to 
mole  at  random  under  conscientious  belief,  or  thrust 
his  spade  carelessly  into  the  most  fragrant  borders  of 
a  man's  life.  The  surgeon  has  no  right  to  thrust  his 
probe  into  an  unwounded  breast.  It  is,  as  I  look  at 
it,  nothing  short  of  a  horrible  perversion  of  his  office, 
and  abuse  of  his  high  prerogatives,  when  one  uses  a 
clergyman's  name  and  a  clergyman's  opportunities  to 
destroy  the  people's  confidence  in  a  book  whose  ex- 
pounder he  nominally  is,  and  the  sway  of  whose  au- 
thority over  the  public  conscience  he  should  zealous- 
ly and  reverently  seek  to  extend.  He  who  uses  the 
sacred  groves  as  an  ambush  from  which  to  shoot  his 
envenomed  arrows  at  passing  pilgrims ;  who  insidious- 
ly seeks  to  weaken  the  girdle  by  which  the  loins  of 
public  virtue  are  strengthened  ;  who,  in  the  name  of 
religion,  strives  to  make  religion  unpopular  by  bring- 
ing discredit  upon  its  most  correct  and  salutary  inter- 
pretation ;    who   piously  ridicules  piety ;    who  uses 


RELIGIOUS  GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  85 

liis  talents  and  the  resoi*irces  of  knowledge  to  suggest 
objections  to  what  every  mterest,  whether  of  the  in- 
dividual or  of  the  community,  demands  should  appear 
as  unobjectionable,  —  such  a  person  does  what,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  is  irreconcilable  with  prudence  and  piety. 
There  is  no  danger,  friends,  that  Americans  will  be 
over-conservative ;  no  danger  that  character  will  be 
over-stable,  or  not  sufficiently  susceptible  of  change. 
Our  land  is  full  of  sceptical  and  antagonistic  elements. 
The  recklessness  and  ignorance  and  violence  of  every 
clime  find  a  home  with  us.  The  future  is  full  of  that 
heat  which  suggests  thunder,  of  that  blackness  which 
breeds  whirlwinds.  The  elements  of  explosion  should 
not  be  stimulated.  The  American  temperament  is 
sufficiently  volcanic  already  :  it  is  not  wise  to  add 
to  its  inward  heat  and  fervor.  When  the  axles 
smoke,  it  is  time  to  slow  up,  and  cool  down  the  boxes  : 
and  we  Americans,  as  a  people,  are  being  driven  in 
all  our  moral  and  spiritual  faculties  too  fast ;  we  are 
running  at  too  high  a  pressure  :  we  need  to  down 
brakes,  and  cool  off  a  while.  Our  young  men  —  the 
average  clerk  and  the  average  student  —  are  not  over- 
reverential,  —  they  do  not  suffer  on  that  side  ;  they  are 
not  over-conservative  ;  they  are  not  painfully  steady 
and  methodical ;  they  are  not  injuriously  affected  by 
tradition ;  they  do  not  seem  to  be  unduly  fond  of 
precedent :  their  religious  teachers  need  not  labor  to 
deliver  them  from  any  supposed  bondage  in  this  di- 
rection ;  need  not  strive  to  weaken  their  faith  in  the 
Bible,  or  persuade  them  to  ignore  its  ethics.  The 
danger  of  the  age  is,  not  bigotry  or  over-strictness  of 


86  TRANSITION-PERIODS  IN 

views,  but  ratlier  license  and  looseness  of  opinion, 
recklessness  and  incontinency.  Fickleness,  and  not 
fidelity,  is  what  we  may  dread. 

My  friends,  the  past  may  be  buried,  but  not  ridi- 
culed. I  would  help  make  a  grave  for  its  deadness, 
but  will  help  no  one  revile  the  corpse.  With  my  eyes 
fastened  on  the  beauty  of  the  flower,  and  inhaling  its 
sweetness,  I  should  think  tenderly  of  the  cloven  shell 
in  which  once  lay  the  germ  of  all  its  loveliness  and 
permme.  Only  when  men  strive  to  put  the  parted 
shuck  around  the  blossom,  only  when  they  strive  to 
hide  life  within  deadness,  and  wrap  corruption  around 
the  incorruptible,  would  I  resist  them,  and  say,  "  Down 
and  away  with  that  which  has  been,  but  has  answered 
its  designed  end,  and  is  needed  no  more  I  "  Then 
would  I  strive  to  make  men  see  that  what  covered 
the  germ  cannot  enclose  the  flower ;  what  held  the 
seed  cannot  contain  the  harvest.  I  know  well  that 
wit  and  humor  have  their  use,  and  that  satire  and 
invective  are  weapons  needed  by  one  who  would  have 
a  perfect  equipment  for  battle.  Not  rarely  must  the 
public  leader  rely  on  these  in  the»emergencies  of  his 
career.  Many  things  which  defy  argument,  and  aie 
deaf  to  entreaty,  quail  before  a  laugh.  Satire  often 
cuts  deeper  than  logic ;  and  many  an  impediment  is 
swept  from  the  path  of  truth  by  the  swing  and  momen- 
tum of  invective  and  impeachment,  which  neither 
argument  nor  persuasion  could  move  an  inch.  For 
one,  I  have  no  scruple  to  use  these,  and  all  potent 
forces  of  nature  and  education,  to  assist  me  in  my  de- 
sire to  beat  down  the  false  and  needless  in  custom  and 


RELIGIOUS   GEOWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  87 

habit,  in  manner  and  life,  among  men.  If  I  can  sat- 
irize hypocrisy  out  of  its  self-conceit,  then  I  will  use 
satire.  If  I  can  shake  enthroned  stupidity  from  its 
seat  with  a  laugh,  then  I  will  try  laughter.  If  I  can- 
not put  bigotry  and  bitterness  to  flight  with  statement, 
then  I  will  gather  up  and  launch  against  them  all 
the  bolts  of  a  lis^htning^-hot  denunciation.  If  I  cannot 
reach  the  giant  with  my  spear,  then  will  I  wait  until 
he  sleeps,  and,  creeping  quietly  within  reach,  spike 
him  through  the  eye.  It  is  all  nonsense  to  talk  about 
"  legitimate  weapons  "  in  such  a  warfare.  Whatever 
kills  the  foe  is  legitimate.  Whatever  lessens  the  sum 
total  of  hypocrisy  in  the  world  ;  whatever  clears  away 
the  obstacles  which  bowlder  up  the  path  along  which 
the  Church,  with  an  ever-accelerating  movement,  is 
to  advance  to  her  perfect  triumph ;  whatever  makes 
cant  unfashionable,  and  advertises  a  correct  model 
of  Christian  deportment  to  the  churches,  —  whatever 
does  this  is  right  and  proper.  All  this  I  believe  ;  and 
yet  these  powers  and  agencies  may  be  and  often  are 
misused,  and  unnecessary  antagonisms  introduced, 
and  needless  conflict  engendered. 

Of  course  I  do  not  expect,  for  one,  I  do  not  see 
how  any  thinking  man  can  expect,  that  the  transitions 
from  the  lower  to  the  higher,  from  the  contracted  to 
the  liberal,  from  the  mere  formal  to  the  truly  spir- 
itual, in  administration  of  religion,  will  be  easy  or 
peaceful.  All  germination  comes  through  disruption. 
The  tough  shell  must  be  parted  before  the  oak  can 
appear.  The  hide-bound  fallow  must  be  rent  and  pul- 
verized or  ever  the  seed  can  be  sown.     True  excel- 


88  TRANSITION-PERIODS  IN 

lence  is  known  as  such  through  the  opposition  that  it 
meets.  This  advertises  and  confirms  it.  There  has 
always  been,  and  I  presume  that  there  always  will  be, 
a  strong  stationary  element  in  our  churches.  Prog- 
ress must  ever  beat  its  way  up  against  wind  and  tide. 
Every  proposition  submitted  to  a  people  will  always 
have  a  party  opposed  to  it.  Not  once  in  a  hundred 
times  is  a  needed  change  made  unanimously.  It  is  in 
vain  to  expect  unanimity.  The  command  is,  '•'■Fight 
and  pray ;  "  and  I  know  of  no  other  injunction  likely 
to  be  so  well  obeyed  in  the  churches  !  The  future  will 
b6  as  the  past.  Through  fire  and  smoke,  amid  conten- 
tion and  the  tumult  of  many  contestants,  the  banners 
of  God  will  be  borne  to  victory  :  I  have  no  doubt  of  the 
victory,  nor  any  doubt  that  the  banners  will  be  sadly 
soiled  and  rent  when  the  angel  shall  group  them  at 
last  in  the  capitol  of  universal  peace. 

I  say  these  things  as  talking  directly  to  you  who 
must  do  the  planning  of  the  next  forty  years.  The 
gravest  of  all  blunders  a  man  can  make  to-day  is  to 
suppose  that  the  great  issues  of  political  government 
and  religious  administration  are  settled ;  that  the 
great  occasions  and  critical  emergencies  of  the  world 
are  passed :  he  must  be  stupid  indeed  who  thinks  that. 
Why,  the  globe  is  not  half  examined  even  in  its  ma- 
terial resources.  Undiscovered  laws,  unascertained 
forces,  undeveloped  capacities,  are  all  around  us :  the 
earth  and  air  are  vibrant  with  the  passing  of  powers 
known  to  us  only  as  hints,  as  suspicions,  as  possibili- 
ties ;  known,  in  short,  only  as  the  unknown.  In  intel- 
lectual development,  only  one-twentieth  of  the  race, 


RELIGIOUS   GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  89 

as  yet,  are  cognizant  of  their  own  minds.  As  with 
babes,  intelligence  is  unintelligible  to  them :  they  are 
insensible  to  all  the  power  and  pleasure  of  it,  to  all 
its  light  and  life.  They  have  not  yet  woven  or  seen  a 
thread  of  that  mantle  which  the  race,  when  it  shall 
have  come  to  its  fall  stature,  to  the  strength  and 
majesty  of  its  final  growth,  will  be  clothed  in  as  with 
a  royal  vesture.  The  war  against  ignorance,  even  in 
its  barbaric  and  grosser  forms,  is  not  ended  yet,  friends. 
The  sun  can  traverse  nearly  a  hemisphere,  and  not, 
with  the  searching  of  all  its  rays,  find  a  school-house. 
Even  in  America,  we  have  only  mastered  the  alphabet 
of  that  sublime  language  in  which  every  child  shall 
in  some  far-off  day  talk, — the  language  of  equal  rights, 
of  justice  unswayed  by  prejudice,  of  Christian  char- 
ity, and  universal  brotherhood.  Oh  that  my  tongue, 
before  I  die,  might  master  the  sweet  mystery  of  that 
speech  !  Oh  that  my  ears  might  be  filled,  befcn-e  the 
irremediable  deafness  comes  to  them,  with  the  melody 
of  that  language !  I  feel  as  one  who  stands  upon 
the  rocky  coast  of  a  turbulent  sea,  whose  farther 
and  far-off  shore  of  eternal  calm,  of  genial  climate, 
and  fragrant  air,  he  will  never  behold.  Others,  born 
later  and  born  purer,  shall  sail  out,  and  cross  it,  pass 
beyond  billows  and  the  force  of  gales,  and  live  with- 
out struggle  with  themselves  or  others  ;  but  not  I.  I, 
and  you  who  are  of  my  generation,  and  those  of  many 
generations  yet  to  come,  will  be  buffeted  and  blown 
upon  adversely,  and  die  at  last,  as  ships,  that  strive 
vainly  to  make  port,  sink,  going  down  amid  tumults, 
with  what  we  strove  to  effect  unaccomplished.     But 


90  TRANSITION-PERIODS  IN 

we  will  not  lament :  a  larger  growth,  a  nobler  man- 
hood and  womanhood,  a  patience  otherwise  unattain- 
able, may  come  to  us  by  virtue  of  our  struggling :  we 
shall  brace  ourselves  with  the  bands  of  power  by 
effort;  we  shall  grow  brawn  by  striking;  we  shall 
become  mightier  through  persistence. 

This,  also,  I  wish  to  say  to  you,  —  that  I  feel 
persuaded  that  a  higher,  fuller,  deeper,  and  richer 
spiritual  life  will  yet  be  known  in  the  Church. 
Christianity  —  the  warm,  the  beautiful,  the  sweet 
Christianity  of  the  New  Testament — shall, yet  receive 
a  perfect  expression  in  the  lives  of  its  disciples.  Now 
we  struggle  most  to  keep  its  moralities :  with  this 
our  ambition  stops.  By  and  by  we  shall  pass  beyond 
this.  Now,  like  young  birds,  we  aim  no  higher  than 
the  lowest  bough,  content  if  our  best  flight  gives  us 
a  safe  perch,  and  lifts  us  above  and  beyond  the  reach 
of  crawling  temptations.  By  and  by  we  shall  go 
higher  ;  we  shall  stand  amid  the  uppermost  branches, 
and  feed  on  fruit  which  feels  the  earliest  beam  of 
morning,  and  retains,  to  assist  its  sweet  chemistry, 
the  last  warm  ray  of  the  declining  orb.  I  am  per- 
suaded that  God  has  not  revealed  all  of  himself  to 
one  generation,  —  not  even  to  this.  Knowledge  of 
God,  and  hence  love  for  him,  and  hfe  in  him,  will 
grow  with  the  growth  of  the  human  understanding ; 
and  God  will  appear  more  and  more  lovely  to  the 
minds  and  hearts  of  men  as  the  ages  pass.  Piety 
will  be  estimated  less  by  obedience  to  the  letter,  and 
more  by  its  harmony  with  the  spirit.  Negation  in 
habits,  and  repression  of  thoughts,  will  not  then  ex- 


RELIGIOUS   GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  91 

press  man's  virtue.  His  soul  shall  catch  a  higher 
conception  of  goodness,  —  even  that  of  ardent  affec- 
tions justified  by  their  purity  ;  of  thought,  rejoicing 
like  a  dove  in  the  whiteness  of  its  own  plumage  ; 
of  imagination,  so  little  of  this  world,  that  it  fore- 
stalls death,  and  makes  it  but  an  incident,  like  what 
a  transverse  gust  of  wind  is  to  a  bird,  marking  the 
straight  line  of  its  homeward  flight  with  a  slight 
curve.  I  have  no  faith  in  the  "  higher-life  "  piety 
that  is  being  so  vigorously  and  loudly  advertised  to 
the  public  and  the  churches  by  self-constituted 
saints.  I  prefer  good,  solid,  spiritual  healthfulness 
to  heavenly  spasms.  A  man  who  cannot  speak 
kindly  and  courteously  of  a  Unitarian  or  a  Universal- 
ist  cannot  be  ranked  very  high  up  on  the  scale  of 
perfection  by  any  pulpit  that  I  stand  in.  If  religion 
has  failed  to  make  him  humane,  and  courteous  of 
speech,  it  certainly  has  not  made  him  Christlike  in 
heart.  If  he  is  not  fit  for  respectable  and  well-bred 
society,  he  surely  is  not  fit  for  heaven.  You  must 
snap  the  line  on  these  crooked  sticks  somewhere  ;  and 
that  is  where  I  let  it  fall.  I  do  not  say  that  many 
of  these  people  are  not  sincere ;  but  I  do  say  that 
they  are  wonderfully  ignorant.  Their  "  gift  of 
sight  "  consists,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  not  seeing  their 
own  failings.  There  is  a  deal  of  loud  talking  and 
exhortation  done  by  people  who  would  be  vastly 
benefited,  as  a  matter  of  discipline,  by  half  an  hour's 
silence  !  When  a  prayer-meeting  falls  into  the  hands 
of  these  religious  "repeaters,"  sensible  people  stay 
away.     The  surest  way  to  keep  an  unconverted  man 


92  TEANSITION-PEEIODS  IN 

unconverted  is  to  disgust  him.  I  hope  every  Chris- 
tian in  the  land  will  improve  his  gifts,  including  the 
gift  to  sit  still!  And  yet,  friends,  I  believe  in  a 
"  higher  life,"  —  a  life  of  meditation,  of  study,  of 
growth  and  love.  I  believe  that  there  is  an  experi- 
ence sweeter  and  holier  than  most  of  us  attain  ;  a 
receptive  and  retaining  state  of  mind,  which  receives 
and  reflects  God  as  some  secluded  lake  far  off  amid 
the  hills  receives  within  its  clear  depths  the  shadows 
of  the  mountains  out  of  whose  other  depths  its 
deeps  come,  and  the  blue  of  heaven  overhead,  and 
the  lustrous  stars.  So  the  soul  of  some,  at  times  lying, 
as  it  were,  close  up  to  and  underneath  God,  capable 
of  reflecting  him  because  of  him,  receives  into  its 
depths  his  image,  and  is  made  beautiful  by  mirroring 
the  beauty  that  is  in  him,  and  hence  stretching  wide 
and  far  over  itself.  But,  friends,  this  blessed  condi- 
tion of  mind  comes  only  to  those  who  ponder  and 
suffer  and  think  ;  to  those  who  climb  toilsomely  the 
heights  of  spiritual  understanding ;  who  suffer  greatly, 
and  by  great  sufferings  are  made  great  themselves  ; 
who  watch,  with  their  white  faces  pressed  against  the 
pane,  patiently,  with  eyes  that  never  droop,  for  the 
coming  of  some  holy  and  desired  thing,  and  at  last" 
see  it,  but  on  the  other  side  of  death,  which,  with  the 
sight  of  it,  came  to  them,  and  so  are  they  made  con- 
tent :  or  it  may  be  to  a  few  specially  favored  of  God 
by  reason  of  something  known  only  to  him  ;  to  such 
there  may  indeed  come  a  higher  life  of  faith  and 
hope  and  love. 

By  and  by,  as  I  think,  it  will  come  to  many,  per- 


RELIGIOUS  GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  93 

haps  to  all  believing  souls,  come  to  the  churches  along 
the  avenue  of  ordinary  spiritual  development,  by 
reason  of  fuller  knowledge  of  God  and  better  appli- 
cation of  the  Scriptures.  God  now  is  interpreted 
only  on  his  theological  side  ;  imperfectly  at  that. 
The  time  will  come  when  he  shall  have  a  far  truer, 
because  more  complete,  interpretation.  He  shall  be 
interpreted  on  the  side  of  art,  and  the  chisel  and 
sounding-string  will  express  him  ;  on  the  side  of  sci- 
ence also,  and  the  elements  in  all  their  admirable 
combinations  and  relations  shall  praise  him  ;  in  the 
adminstration  of  governments,  and  the  earth  shall 
know  that  the  Lord  reigneth ;  in  the  humanities 
and  sympathies  of  man  for  man  as  a  full  brother,  and 
all  shall  honor  God  as  the  great  head  of  a  universal 
brotherhood.  Now,  before  any  such  interpretation 
will  be  given  to  God,  a  great  change  must  come  over 
men's  views  and  habits.  The  Church  itself  must  be 
revolutionized,  and  many  things  excised,  and  much 
ingrafted.  The  branches  are  not  yet  grown  that  can 
bear  such  fruit.  New  ideas  must  first  be  proclaimed 
and  received,  antagonisms  be  introduced  and  expend 
their  force,  conflicts  be  joined,  and  alienations  occur, 
or  ever  such  an  interpretation  of  God  be  known  or 
received.  The  future  will  see  some  brave  wrestling ; 
and  not  a  few  of  us  will  get  falls.  And  yet  this 
should  be  borne  in  mind,  that  whatever  is  organic, 
whatever  is  fundamental,  in  religion,  never  changes. 
There  are  many  degrees  of  light;  there  are  many 
shades  of  color  :  but  the  sun  itself  remains  from  day 
to  day,  and  age  to  age,  unchanged.     Ceremonies  may 


94  TRANSITION-PERIODS  IN 

be  multiplied  or  lessened ;  creeds  changed  to  suit  the 
fickleness  or  growth  of  the  human  mind ;  organizations 
of  vast  power  be  built,  and  crumble  into  pieces ; 
the  mode  and  method  of  administration  vary  among 
various  people  and  at  different  times  :  but  truth  itself 
is  everlasting,  and  not  subject  to  change.  Heaven 
and  earth  may  pass  away ;  but  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
it  shall  perish.  The  great  doctrines  of  the  Bible  are 
what  they  have  always  been.  The  wickedness  of 
man  ;  the  love  of  God  in  Christ ;  the  power  of  the 
Spirit ;  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  the  atonement 
made  for  sin  on  Calvary,  through  which  alone  may 
come  salvation  to  the  lost,  —  these,  my  friends,  are 
mountains ;  and  the  passage  of  no  thunder  through 
the  air  can  move  them  an  inch.  Clouds  may  settle 
around  them,  tempests  search  their  sides,  lightnings 
scar  their  surface,  and  fires  girdle  their  slopes ;  but 
neither  cloud  nor  storm,  neither  lightning  nor  the 
fierceness  of  many  fires,  can  ever  remove  them  from 
the  landscape  of  divine  truth.  For  ages  they  have 
stood,  and  for  all  ages  will  they  stand,  outlined  in 
grandeur,  their  vast  proportions  brought  into  bold  re- 
lief against  the  background  of  the  eternal  world. 

The  way  to  bring  the  race  more  and  more  under 
the  power  of  true  religion  ;  the  way  to  inculcate  the 
divine  life,  and  push  man  on  in  the  harmonious  devel- 
opment of  all  his  faculties,  which,  when  carried  to  its 
last  and  perfect  stage,  constitutes  holiness,  —  is  not 
through  destructive  processes  of  thought ;  not  through 
a  philosophy  antagonistic  to  the  plan  of  salvation  as 
published  in  the  Gospels ;  not  through  criticism,  and 


RELIGIOUS  GROWTH  AND  TEACHINGS.  95 

demolition  of  men's  faith.  Nor  does  it  lie  in  the 
direction  of  mental  gymnastics  and  a  culture  super- 
ficial ;  because  it  does  not  meet  the  deep,  spiritual  ne- 
cessities of  the  soul.  There  is  a  life  better  than  the 
brain-life,  and  a  wisdom  higher  than  the  knowledge 
of  books.  Because  the  religious  expression  of  this 
age  is  imperfect,  religion  is  not  to  be  discarded,  but 
carried  up  through  successive  stages  of  development, 
until  it  finds  a  perfect  expression  in  the  conscience 
and  conduct  of  the  nation  and  of  the  race.  It  is  as  a 
flower  in  the  bud.  Its  floral  state  is  not  yet  reached. 
It  needs  time ;  it  needs  culture ;  it  needs  the  suc- 
cession of  days  and  nights,  each  operant  in  their  way, 
and  the  changeful  ministries  of  earth  and  sky ;  and, 
when  these  have  come  to  it  in  full  measure,  it  shall 
flower  out,  and  the  whole  world  be  filled  with  its  fra- 
grance. And  none  are  so  mistaken  as  those  who 
would  rudely  break  the  stem  because  the  bud  is  not 
yet  fully  opened. 

Error  in  this  country  has  always  made  this  stupid 
blunder,  —  it  has  adopted  the  destructive  process.  It 
has  acted  like  a  gardener  who  should  take  a  mallet, 
and  not  a  spade,  an  axe,  and  not  a  pruning-knife,  into 
the  garden.  It  has  beaten  down  the  most  fragrant 
hopes  of  men's  souls ;  it  has  struck  cruel  blows  at 
the  tender  roots  of  cherished  faith ;  it  has  shocked 
man's  reverence,  and  sneered  at  his  trust  in  God. 
Its  advocates  forgot  that  a  destructive  philosophy 
can  never  be  attached  to  a  successful  religion.  They 
who  rend  and  pull  down  can  never  hold  their  own 
btside    one  who  puts   together   and   constructs.     A 


96  TRANSITION-PERIODS   IN 

religion  of  negation  is  powerless  over  against  a  reli- 
gion of  affirmation.  Like  a  surgeon  who  forgets  the 
proprieties,  they  have  the  pleasure  of  making  savage 
remarks  ;  but  they  lose  their  patients. 

And  now,  friends,  let  us  see  where  we  stand.  We 
are  not  in  a  transition  from  one  form  of  doctrinal  in- 
terpretation to  another ;  but  we  are  in  a  transition 
from  one  form  of  administration  to  another.  We  do 
not  do  things  as  our  fathers  did.  The  thoughts  that 
are  the  working,  the  leaven-like  thoughts  in  New 
England,  are  not  their  thoughts ;  nor  are  our  ways 
their  ways.  Nor  have  we  as  yet  touched  the  limit 
of  change.  Not  by  reason  of  its  fickleness,  but  by 
reason  of  its  social  and  spiritual  necessities,  will  the 
future  modify  our  work  of  to-day.  The  divine  wind 
is  coursing  through  the  heavens,  and  our  cloud-like 
misconceptions  will  be  blown  away.  I  am  anxious 
only  that  the  transitions  be  peaceful;  that  changes 
be  in  the  order  of  growth,  and  not  of  revolution; 
that  the  churches  shall  not  resist  the  inevitable,  nor 
stop  their  ears  to  the  voice  of  the  angels  that  God 
from  time  to  time  shall  send  to  them.  Bigotry  means 
war ;  stupidity,  and  excessive  slowness  to  act,  mean 
dissension.  When  men  get  egotistical,  and  refuse  to 
be  students  of  his  will,  God  mortifies  them.  The 
age  spins  ;  and  we  must  revolve  with  it,  or  be  thrown 
out  of  the  circle  of  its  activities.  He  who  lags  be- 
hind God  loses  sight  of  God's  face.  If  you  feel  the 
need  of  his  guidance,  hurry  on,  and  keep  close  by  his 
side. 

The  greatest  question  —  the  highest  peak  in  the 


RELIGIOUS   GROWTH   AND   TEACHINGS.  97 

whole  range  —  Avhich  now  confronts  us,  is,  How  shall 
the  masses  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them  ?  how  shall 
they  be  reached  by  the  divine  inflaeuce  ?  I  confess 
that  I  am  greatly  burdened  by  this  thought.  I  sleep 
at  night  with  the  moan  of  an  uneasy  sea  in  my  ears, 
and  dream  of  shrieks  in  the  air,  and  wild  cries  as  of 
men  drowning.  As  I  stand  before  you  here,  day  after 
day,  I  catch  the  glimpse  of  another  audience  standing 
back  of  you,  and  enclosing  you  about  as  the  many 
enclose  the  few.  Many  are  wild  and  lawless  and 
wicked,  and  some  unfortunate,  and  they  hear  no 
preacher ;  and  yet  I  fancy  they  might.  I  see  many 
churches  going  up,  but  none  for  these :  voices  by  the 
score  are  preaching  in  this  city  to-day  ;  but  no  voice 
preaches  to  them.  The  preachers  of  God  are  monop- 
olized by  the  few,  and  religion  has  become  a  luxury. 
The  table  is  spread  with  twice  the  amount  of  food 
that  the  sitters  can  eat,  —  spread  for  satiety,  and  not 
for  necessity ;  and  all  the  while  gaunt  faces  look  over 
your  shoulders  hungeringiy.  Shall  they  go  unfed  ? 
I  do  not  impeach  your  benevolence  :  I  impeach  the 
miserable  fashion  of  church-building,  and  that  inade- 
quate system  of  religious  administration  in  this  city 
which  makes  provision  for  the  spiritual  needs  of  only 
two  out  of  every  five  of  your  population.  Some  of 
us,  before  we  die,  must  think  this  thing  out.  We  must 
lead  investigation  with  a  weight  that  will  cause  it  to 
touch  bottom.  We  must  keep  changing  the  imper- 
fect until  we  have  found  the  perfect.  Transitions 
must  go  on  until  the  useless  and  inadequate  in  the 
old  have  passed   away,  and   all   things   have  become 


98  TRANSITION-PERIODS   IN   RELIGION. 

new.  The  hand  must  not  let  go  the  ropes :  the  bells 
must  be  kept  m  motion,  until  each  sound  shall  find 
its  proper  place  in  that  sweet  tune  whose  line  shall 
then  go  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  whose  words 
to  the  end  of  the  world. 


SABBATH  MORKINQ,  XOY.  12,  1871. 


SERMON. 


TOPIC.-THE  TWO   IMMORTALITIES. 

**  For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  him 
SELF."  —  Rom.  xiv.  7. 

IT  is  a  common  form  of  expression  to  say  of  a  man 
when  he  is  dead,  that  "  he  has  gone."  The  way 
that  it  represents  itself  to  the  public  mind  is,  that 
there  is  one  less  person  on  the  earth:  its  population 
has  been  decreased  by  one  ;  and  whatever  of  force 
for  good  or  evil  he  represented  has  suffered  a  diminu- 
tion. This  conception  admits  the  immortality  of  man, 
but  thinks  of  it  as  going  out  of  the  world  with  him ; 
as  being  entirely  taken  away  when  he  withdraws  from 
sight ;  and  that  nothing  remains  but  the  gap  his  retire- 
ment made,  and  a  memor}^  that  he  once  existed. 

Now,  it  seems  to  me,  friends,  that  this  statement  is 
not  entirely  correct.  The  entire  truth  is  not  brought 
out  by  this  way  of  putting  it.  The  fact  is,  that  man 
leaves  more  than  a  gap  and  a  memory  behind  him  at 
death.  He  leaves  words  and  deeds  and  forces  and  1 
tendencies,  and  the  thousand  and  one  influences  which 
represent  power ;  and  these  remain,  not  for  one  year  ^ 


100  THE    TWO    IMMOETALITIES. 

or  two,  but  for  all  time.  In  one  sense,  and  a  very 
important  one  too,  the  man  never  dies,  —  never  leaves 
the  earth  at  all.  His  bodily  departure  caused  no  such 
gap  amid  the  ranks  of  forceful  energies  as  some  think. 
He  had  a  duplicate  form  of  existence ;  he  had  two 
immortalities, — one  he  took  with  him  at  death,  the 
other  he  did  not  and  could  not  take  with  him  ;  and  it 
remains  still,  and  always  will,  as  his  true  self,  working 
as  it  always  worked,  influencing  as  it  always  influ- 
enced. 

In  many  instances  this  is  observed  and  admitted. 
The  author,  the  orator,  the  musical  composer,  the 
inventor  of  useful  expedients  to  assist  industry,  the 
architect,  and  all  that  vast  multitude  of  men  who 
originated  new  trains  of  thought,  started  new  forces 
into  life,  organized  powerful  elements,  utilized  what 
was  previously  useless,  opened  up  new  paths  for  the 
feet  of  science,  and  set  the  chimes  of  progress  to  a 
holier  movement,  —  none  of  3^ou  object  to  the  saying 
that  such  men  cannot  die,  even  to  the  earth  ;  cannot 
remove  themselves,  or  be  removed,  from  the  position 
they  hold  and  honor  as  powers  and  forces  in  society. 
He  who  teaches  some  one  to  think  deeper  than  he 
would  otherwise  have  thought  is  forever  thinking 
himself;  and  he  lives  in  the  activities  of  other  minds 
which  he  started  from  lethargy  and  set  in  motion. 
He  who  invents  any  thing  quickens  the  inventive 
faculties  in  others,  and  hence  becomes  the  parent  of 
a  vast  family  of  inventions,  and  is  perpetuated  in 
them.  What  countless  inventions  Fulton's  steam- 
engine  has  originated  !     What  marvellous  discoveries 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  101 

Franklin's  investigations  have  begotten !  How  the 
poor,  ridiculed  Goodyear,  persisting  in  his  experi- 
ments with  a  perseverance  so  far  beyond  what  the 
world  named  by  that  term,  that  it  called  it  insanity,  — 
how  Goodyear  still  lives  and  works  and  perseveres  ! 
Are  these  men,  and  their  companions  in  effort  and 
usefulness,  gone?  Did  they  entirely  retire  from  the 
world  at  death  ?  Did  charity  or  affection  shut  all  of 
them  that  God  permits  to  be  on  the  earth  under  the 
coffin-hd?  and  does  the  grave  imprison  it  to-day? 
Why,  no,  friends :  such  men  do  not  leave  the  earth. 
They  cannot  go  into  exile.  Their  citizenship  with 
the  race  is  perpetual,  and  their  labors  for  man  cease- 
less. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  lesser  men,  whose  powers 
are  less  advertised,  whose  influence  is  less  tangible, 
—  men  who  had  no  visible  greatness,  and  yet  ex- 
erted, according  to  the  measure  of  their  ability  and 
the  opportunity  of  their  fortune,  their  legitimate  influ- 
ence ?  Is  not  every  drop  of  falling  rain  water,  —  the 
same  in  its  elements  as  the  body  of  the  great  ocean  ? 
Is  not  wind  wind,  although  you  cannot  locate  it,  or 
gauge  its  pressure,  or  trace  its  airy  path  through  the 
heavens  ?  And  do  not  all  these  men,  these  rain-drop 
men,  these  wind-like  men,  that  you  cannot  locate  in 
space  or  time,  but  were,  nevertheless,  forceful,  each 
in  his  way,  —  are  these  not  all  one  with  the  others 
in  their  constituent  characteristics  ?  Have  they  not  all 
entered  into  and  become  mingled  to-day  with  the  vast 
body  of  moral  and  spiritual  influence  around  us  ?  Un- 
doubtedly.    It  must  be  so.     As  the  father  lives  in 


102  THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

his  child  ;  as  the  rain  lives  again  in  the  rising  vapor  ; 
as  the  dying  taper  lives  in  the  bright  flame,  which, 
before  it  went  out,  it  kindled  ;  as  the  dead  leaf  lives 
again  in  the  living  green  overhead,  which,  by  its 
own  deca}^,  it  has  fed  and  nourished :  so  these  men 
are  all  living  still ;  living  in  us  and  in  others ;  living 
in  things  seen  and  in  things  unseen  ;  in  causes  that 
we  behold,  and  in  causes  which,  though  invisible,  are 
nevertheless  operant.  And,  with  such  a  train  of 
thought  in  mind,  I  say  to  myself,  "  Man  has  two  im- 
mortalities :  one  he  takes  with  him  at  death ;  the 
other  he  leaves  behind  on  the  earth  to  represent 
him  after  he  has  gone.  And  of  this  representative 
immortality  after  death  I  am  now  to  speak. 

The  usual  assertion  is,  that  a  selfish  man  lives  for 
himself.  In  one  sense,  he  does :  in  his  plans  and 
hopes  and  efforts  he  does  live  for  himself.  He  con- 
centrates and  circumscribes  every  thing  he  can  lay 
his  hands  on  within  that  little  circle  which  has  his 
own  advantage  for  its  centre.  He  makes  a  sort  of 
sponge  of  himself,  and  fills  himself  with  powers  of 
suction,  that  he  may  the  better  absorb  and  appropri- 
ate for  his  own  fulness  whatever  he  touches.  If  he 
touches  a  man  in  trade,  the  man  is  a  loser,  unless  he 
is  as  sponge-like  as  himself;  in  which  case  it  is  a 
mutual  contest  between  suctions,  and  the  issiie  is 
about  equal.  And  I  wish  that  all  these  men,  these 
human  sponges,  who  pervert  the  blessing  of  prosperity 
into  food  for  their  selfishness,  and  grow  more  and 
more  tricky  and  miserly  and  exacting  as  they  grow 
wealthy,  —  I  wish  all  such  men,  who  cheat  and  rob 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  103 

and  oppress  legally,  and  set  a  false  standard  of  suc- 
cess before  the  young  men  of  the  country,  might  be 
penned  up  together  in  one  street  or  section  of  the 
city,  and  compelled  to  do  business  only  with  each 
other:  then  we  should  all  see  that  it  is  one  thing  to 
do  business  in  an  honest,  manly,  and  honorable  way, 
but  an  altogether  different  affair  to  use  the  facilities 
of  commerce  and  the  combinations  of  trade  as  the 
safe  way  to  cheat  and  lie  and  steal. 

The  worst  thing  about  incarnated  selfishness  is, 
that  it  does  not  die  with  the  man  whom  it  has  cursed 
and  used.  If  sin  were  mortal,  then  thirty  years  would 
swing  the  world  over  into  the  millennium  :  we  should 
bury  it  with  the  next  generation.  But  it  is  not  mor- 
tal. Its  endurance  is  interminable.  It  is  not  barren, 
but  prolific  ;  it  propagates  itself ;  it  has  parental  func- 
tions, and  sends  its  children  out  in  swarms  to  possess 
the  earth.  I  wish  you  all  to  understand,  that  what- 
ever evil  you  are  tolerating  in  your  lives  will  live 
after  you  are  gone  :  you  will  pass  away ;  but  this  shall 
not  pass  away.  One  immortality  you  will  take  with 
you  at  death  ;  another  you  will  leave  behind.  It  shall 
stand  above  your  grave  when  the  mound  is  fashioned 
and  the  mourners  depart,  and  shake  itself  as  a  strong 
man  rejoicing  in  his  strength,  and  go  forth  as  one  of 
the  forces  of  the  world.  It  will  be  impersonal ;  it 
will  have  no  name ;  it  will  show  no  face  :  and  yet 
it  will  be  you,  your  worse  self,  unchecked,  unre- 
strained by  the  good  that  was  once  mated  with  it, 
and  that  kept  it  within  bounds.  It  is  in  the  moral 
and  spiritual  as  it  is  in  the  material  world.     There 


104  THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

are  elements,  and  basal  principles,  and  constituent 
forces  ;  and  the  laws  that  govern  them  are  subtle,  but 
potent.  They  arrange  themselves  into  groups  and 
tribes  and  families,  according  to  their  affinities  ;  and 
they  are  full  of  attractions  for  whatever  is  like  to 
them:  and  so  it  comes  about,  that  evil  is  forever 
growing,  and  must  iorever  grow,  by  addition  and  ac- 
cretion, so  long  as  elements  are  multiplied  which 
can  swell  its  bulk.  Into  the  arcana  of  evil  all  evil 
that  is  generated  in  us  passes,  and  takes  its  own  pe- 
culiar embodiment  perpetually.  It  is  said  that  one 
cannot  stir  the  air  with  a  sound  so  soft  and  slight 
that  it  will  ever  cease  to  be  a  sound.  The  words  we 
speak,  whether  of  love  or  hate,  whether  pure  or  vile, 
start  pulsations  in  the  air  that  will  never  cease  to 
throb.  You  cannot  open  your  lips,  and  start  a  mo- 
tion in  the  atmosphere,  which  shall  not,  like  a  wave 
on  a  shoreless  sea,  whose  forces  are  within  itself  and 
adequate,  roll  on  and  on  forever.  An  oath  once 
spoken  sounds  forever  in  the  universe  as  an  oath :  it 
is  an  explosion,  whose  reverberations  can  never  die. 
They  roll  around  all  continents  ;  they  crash  against  the 
sides  of  all  mountains  ;  they  beat  discordantly  in  upon 
the  atmosphere  of  all  worlds:  the  devils  hear  them, 
and  rejoice  ;  the  holy,  and  fly  away  in  dismay.  And, 
at  the  judgment,  why  may  we  not  suppose  that  these 
sounds  shall  all  come  back  to  us,  —  the  good  in  sooth- 
ing music,  and  the  evil  in  torturing  discord?  and 
every  man  shall  be  judged  according  to  the  words  of 
his  mouth.  Indeed,  it  seems  to  me  that  everything 
in  man  that  is  of  the  mind  and  soul  is  immortal.    The 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  105 

offspring  are  heirs  of  the  parental  nature,  and  hence 
deathless.  Not  only  words,  but  even  our  thoughts 
and  our  imaginations,  being  potent,  die  not.  They 
live,  in  their  effects,  primarily  on  us,  and  through 
us  in  others,  being  transmitted.  They  fade  from 
memory ;  they  are  not  entered  in  the  catalogue  of 
recollection :  but,  amid  the  shaping  and  inspiring 
forces  of  the  universe,  they^haj^^.  an  eternal  residence 
and  mention.  Upon  the  heels  of  this  thought,  as 
one  racing  after  a  flying  opportunity,  repentance 
comes  pantingly.  It  shouts  to  the  flying  thought, 
"  Come  back  !  you  are  not  fit  to  go  forth  to  be  seen 
of  all."  To  some  disappearing  imagination  it  says, 
"  Stop  !  thou  art  unclean ;  thou  art  not  fit  to  repre- 
sent me.  Cursed  be  the  sight  or  sound  that  suggest- 
ed thee  1 "  And  to  every  thing  evil  that  has  gone  out 
of  us  it  calls,  and  petitions  that  it  go  no  farther,  but 
come  back,  and  die,  like  some  awful  and  unfit  birth,  in 
the  bed  where  it  was  born.  But  the  wicked  thought, 
and  impure  fancy,  and  the  unnamed  evil,  whatever 
it  be,  will  not  come  back.  They  hear  no  prayer; 
they  laugh  at  the  petition  :  they  roll  on  in  spite  of 
human  agony.  The  dove  will  come  back  to  its  cage ; 
for  it  is  tamable,  and,  like  all  innocent  things,  loves 
companionship,  and  covets  no  secrecy:  but  the  young 
vulture,  once  having  broken  its  chain  or  overflown 
the  wire,  returns  no  more,  but  sails  away  on  wings 
that  grow  and  darken  as  they  sail,  guided  in  its 
cruel  flights  only  b}^  the  license  of  its  coarse  instincts. 
So  is  it  with  sin.  Once  out  of  our  reach,  it  is  forever 
beyond  our  control :  we  cannot  check  it ;  we  cannot 

5* 


106  THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

limit  it  even.  Like  a  freed  vulture,  we  know  not 
where  it  will  fly ;  we  know  not  on  what  innocent  thing 
it  will  pounce,  what  it  shall  mangle,  or  what  other 
sins  like  unto  itself  it  shall  beget.  Would  to  God  it 
were  not  so  !  Would  to  God  we  might  all  undo  what 
we  have  spoken  and  done  and  thought  of  evil !  What 
a  load  would  be  lifted  from  our  consciences  !  What  a 
blessed  ebb  would  drain  away  the  great  and  bitter 
waves  of  remorse  which  now  roll  thunderously  in 
upon  our  hopes,  submerging  them  !  How  would  we 
leap  to  our  feet,  and  pour  out  our  cries,  and  beat  the 
•air  above  our  heads  with  our  clasped  and  entreating 
hands  I  and  when  the  evil  that  had  gone  out  of  us 
had  all  come  back  to  us,  and  been  gathered  in  like 
redeemed  notes,  and  destroyed,  and  the  ashes  lay 
around  our  feet,  representing  no  power,  no  obliga- 
tion, no  possibility  of  harm  whatever,  what  rejoicing 
there  would  be  here !  and  how  this  room  would  re- 
sound with  shouts  of  gladness,  and  hymns  of  praise  I 
and  you  would  clasp  each  other's  hands,  while  the 
great  tears  rolled  down  your  faces,  and  say,  "  Thank 
God!  the  evil  that  I  have  done,  and  the  remembrance 
of  which  has  tortured  me,  is  undone  at  last !  Now, 
when  I  am  dead,  the  evil  that  I  have  done  will  be 
dead  too,  and  no  one  will  be  able  to  say  that  the 
world  was  made  worse  because  I  lived." 

You  see  now  how  it  comes  about  that j,_  selfish  man 
cannot  live  within  the  circle  of  his  own  selfishness. 
He  cannot  lift  the  dikes  so  high  that  the  ebbless  and 
tempestuous  forces  of  evil  in  him  will  not  break  over 
them,  and  sweep  them  away,  and  submerge  the  fruit- 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  107 

fulness  of  other  and  better  lives.  You  men  who  do 
business  to-day  in  this  city  are  deciding  how  business 
shall  be  done  here  after  you  are  gone.  If  you  rob  and 
cheat  each  other ;  if  you  seek  to  outwit  and  overreach 
each  other ;  if  you  make  it  appear  that  commercial  suc- 
cess depends  on  cunning  and  trickery  ;  that  compe- 
tition in  trade  knows  no  friendship,  and  acknowledges 
no  generosity ;  that  the  great  thing  is  to  become  rich 
and  potential,  irrespective  of  other  men's  rights  ;  that 
rivalry  in  business  cannot  be  noble  and  generous,  but 
only  and  forever  mean  and  envious,  —  tlien  will  you 
set  business  at  war  with  manhood,  and  make  prosper- 
ity hostile  to  religion.  The  evil  you  do  will  never  be 
seen  until  after  you  are  gone,  and  your  sons  and  your 
present  clerks  fill  the  places  you  now  fill :  then  will 
the  tares,  which  looked  so  innocent  as  seeds^when  you 
were  sowing  them,  be  seen  in  all  the  abounding  de- 
structiveness  of  their  maturity.  The  selfishness  which 
possessed  you  only  in  part  shall  possess  them  wholly ; 
what  floated  around  you  in  chaotic,  elementary  state, 
shall  crystallize  solidly  around  them ;  and  the  question- 
able processes  to  which  you  resort  only  occasionally, 
and  in  what  you  call  emergencies,  will  be  the  common 
and  universally-adopted  rule  of  their  business-career. 
What  will  be  the  character  of  this  city  then  ?  what 
the  character  of  its  men  and  its  women  and  its  youth  ? 
What  use  will  wealth  make  of  itself,  think  you,  amassed 
under  such  a  coarse  stimulant,  and  by  such  tricky 
and  dishonorable  methods  ?  Talk  about  Christian  fel- 
lowship and  fraternal  love  existing  in  such  a  city! 
why,  friends,  you  know  that  it  could  not  be.     You 


108  THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

might  import  every  pulpit  in  the  land,  and  crowd  them 
all  in  until  the  spires  were  so  thick,  that,  standing  on 
the  dome  of  the  State  House,  you  could  not  see  Bos- 
ton Highlands  or  Bunker-hill  Monument ;  and,  in  less 
than  six  months,  every  minister  that  could  be  would 
be  flattered  or  bribed  into  silence,  and  the  others  be 
preaching  to  empty  seats,  or  persecuted  out  of  the 
city.  Did  you  ever  know  an  instance  where  wealth 
unjustly  gained  and  selfishly  used  listened  placidly 
to  the  word  of  God,  which,  when  nobly  preached,  is  to 
it  what  the  shaft  of  lightning  is  to  the  rotten  pine,  — 
riving  it  from  its  lifeless  top  to  its  dead  roots,  and 
scattering  it  in  bits  of  flying  punk  in  all  directions  ? 
In  such  an  atmosphere,  I  tell  3^ou,  piety  could  not  live. 
It  would  strangle  as  a  man  enveloped  in  coal-damp. 
When  the  young  men  in  this  city  see  nothing  more 
noble  in  trade,  nothing  more  useful  in  commerce, 
nothing  more  lofty  in  business,  than  money-getting ; 
when  honor  and  hoiiesty  and  friendship,  in  the  sense 
that  our  fathers  interpreted  them,  shall  become  obso- 
lete terms  on  State  Street,  or  mentioned  as  "  old-fogy 
notions ; "  when  the  road  that  leads  to  financial  success 
in  Boston  shall  be  paved  only  with  trickery  and  deceit, 
and  alow,  thief-like  cunning,  —  when  that  hour  comes, 
if,  unfortunately,  it  ever  shall,  your  city  will  stand 
disgraced  before  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  your  sons 
and  daughters  accursed  of  God. 

I  know  that  most  men  desire  posthumous  reputa- 
tion ;  and  I  hope  that  I  do  not  fail  to  appreciate  the 
possible  nobility  of  such  a  yearning.  It  is  indeed  an 
exalted  and  exalting  thought  to  think  that  one  can 


THE    TWO    IMMOBTALITIES.  109 

live  on  and  on  after  death ;  that  death  is  not  the 
powerful  and  destructive  thing  that  the  unenlightened 
represent  il  to  be,  —  able  to  break  in  upon  and  break 
up  all  the  forces  of  one's  life,  bringing  disruption  and 
a  sudden  stoppage  to  all  the  forceful  currents  of  his 
energies  ;  that  it  takes  the  visible,  but  leaves  behind, 
untouched,  unlessened,  a  representation  of  your  abili- 
ties more  potential  than  the  seen ;  so  that  a  man  is 
not  changed,  even  in  respect  to  the  locality  of  his 
influence,  but  remains  working  where  he  has  always 
worked,  and  shaping  what  he  has  always  shaped, 
even  more  mightily  after  than  before  his  body  was 
buried.  I  suppose  that  most  of  us  have  felt  this  at 
times,  —  felt  the  brevity  of  bodily  existence,  and  re- 
belled generously  against  it.  I  know  nothing  sweeter 
than  to  dream  that  you  will  leave  something  to  be  your 
representative  on  the  earth  after  you  have  passed  with- 
in the  veil  and  become  invisible,  —  even  as  the  sun,  on 
some  bright  day,  leaves  this  for  another  hemis23here, 
and  disappears  from  the  eyes  of  those  who  stand 
admiringly  watching  it,  but  leaves  behind,  at  its 
departure,  spear-like  formations  along  the  sky,  and 
the  air  full  of  golden  haze.  For  one,  I  sympathize 
with  this  sentiment,  this  warning.  The  most  tender 
and  consoling  sentence  of  all  the  sweet  ones  uttered 
by  Christ  to  his  disciples,  when  preparing  their  minds 
and  hearts  for  his  departure,  was  this ;  "I  will  notj 
leave  you  comfortless :  I  will  come  to  you  again." 
That  buoyed  their  sinking  spirits  up,  and  sustained 
them.  This  is  the  language  of  expiring  love  the  world 
over,  and  in  all  ages.  For  one,  I  hate  the  doctrine  of  for- 


110  THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

getfulness  at  death,  and  the  sudden  cessation  of  what- 
ever good  I  have  succeeded  in  starting.  I  would  live 
so  as  to  compel  remembrance.  I  would  have  my  life 
like  the  great  river  that  flows  and  flows  on  long 
after  the  forests  have  been  swept  from  the  mountains, 
and  the  little  spring,  where  in  the  beginning  it  was 
born,  has  become  dry,  and  all  trace  of  it  lost  be- 
neath the  grave  which  Nature  makes  from  her  mat- 
ted grasses  and  dying  leaves.  I  would  feel  that  those 
whom  I  have  loved,  and  who  loved  me,  for  whom 
I  have  toiled,  and  perhaps  suffered  some  things, 
could  not  forget ;  that  when  my  voice  was  hushed, 
and  the  tired  hand  had  become  still,  they  would  feel 
my  guidance  in  a  thousand  warnings,  my  ministries 
in  a  thousand  comforts,  and  whatever  was  sweet 
and  strength-giving  in  me  in  a  thousand  memories. 
Who,  that  loves  or  thinks  or  feels  the  promptings  of  his 
immortality,  would  have  his  face  entirely  hidden,  and 
the  sound  of  his  voice  utterly  and  foreVer  silenced,  in 
the  grave  ?  What  generous  and  faithful  soul  can 
endure  that  definition  of  death  which  makes  it  mean 
only  a  union  with  those  gone  before,  while  it  totally 
separates  him  from  the  dear  ones  left  behind  ?  If 
that  is  dying,  then  I  am  not  ready  to  die  ;  nor  does  it 
seem  that  I  could  ever  be.  This  aspiration  I  hold  to 
be  legitimate.  It  finds  its  justification  in  that  great 
law  of  love  which  makes  it  treachery  for  love  to  for- 
get love.  Some  fragrance  will  remain  in  the  casket, 
although  the  flower  has  been  long  from  the  stem  on 
which  it  budded,  and  the  bloom  it  had,  when  with 
others  it  hung  over  the  tide,  has  departed. 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  Ill 

But,  friends,  sweet  as  it  is,  nevertheless  it  is  a 
grave  and  most  solemn  thought  to  think  that  you 
are  to  continue  to  live  on  thus  endlessly.  Whom  is 
it  that  you  are  to  influence  after  you  are  dead  ? 
What  sort  of  influence  Avill  it  be  ?  —  how  will  it 
affect  them  ?  "What  is  there  in  our  character  and 
conduct  that  we  would  like  to  change,  were  we  to-day 
in  eternity,  and  looking  back  upon  ourselves  ?  Is  it 
our  manner  of  speech,  our  motive  and  method  of 
doing  business,  our  way  of  using  our  wealth  or 
bearing  our  poverty  ?  or  is  it  some  habit  which  leeches 
us  dangerously  ?  Such  questions  are  the  natural  ones 
for  us  to  answer  at  this  time,  as  we  sit  under  the 
shadow  of  the  interrogations  which  project  gloomily 
over  us  from  the  future.  Whatever  it  is,  my  hearers, 
change  it  now.  Now  you  can  change  ;  now  you  can 
modify  yourselves  :  by  and  by  you  cannot.  To-day 
you  can  re-form  and  re-construct  your  whole  life  :  to- 
morrow 3^ou  may  not  be  able  to  alter  it  the  tithe  of  a 
hair.  Now  every  thing  is  plastic  ;  your  life,  in  all  its 
conditions  and  proportions,  is,  as  it  were,  in  a  volatile 
state ;  you  can  cause  it  to  crystallize  into  whatever 
shape  you  please :  by  and  by  every  thing  in  and 
about  you  will  be  fixed.  The  chisel  that  is  steel 
to-day  will  become  lead  to-morrow ;  and  the  sand- 
stone, granite  :  and,  if  the  statue  be  deformed,  its 
deformity  shall  stand,  and  give  you  shameful  ad- 
vertisement forever.  Whatever  there  is,  therefore, 
in  your  life  that  should  be  hewn  off,  hew  it  off 
to-day ;  if  for  no  other  reason,  for  this  at  least,  —  lest 
you  be  responsible  for  the  evil  in  those  who  caught  it 


112  THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

from  you.  Now  and  then,  I  have  seen  men  whose  char- 
acter and  influence,  otherwise  perfect,  were  marred  by 
the  presence  of  some  one  unfortunate  or  sinful  habit,  as 
a  scar  on  the  human  face,  or  the  maleformation  of  some 
one  feature,  mars  the  entire  countenance,  and  is  made 
especially  repulsive  by  reason  of  the  otherwise  per- 
fect loveliness  which  it  alone  disfio^ures.  I  wonder  if 
any  of  you  can  possibly  be  affected  in  this  way. 
Who  of  us  is  it  that  is  perfect  in  all  save  one,  but, 
being  imperfect  in  one,  is  imperfect  in  all  ?  Is  there 
a  man  present,  for  instance,  given  to  the  vice  of  pro- 
fanity ?  If  so,  I  urge  you,  friend,  to  reform  your 
speech.  This  is  the  very  day  and  place  for  you  to 
think  the  matter  over,  and  make  the  right  resolve.  I 
might  press  you  with  reasons  :  I  mention  only  this,  — 
your  profanity  is  making  others  profane.  I  presume 
that  there  is  not  a  nation  on  the  globe  where  profanity 
is  so  common,  so  coarse,  so  violently  blasphemous,  as 
in  America.  The  sensitive  ear  hears  it  everywhere,  — 
on  the  street,  at  the  depot,  and  on  the  cars,  on  wharves 
and  the  decks  of  ships,  in  the  stable,  and  at  hotels : 
everywhere,  save  at  funerals  and  in  the  chamber  of 
death,  you  hear  the  awful  utterance  against  God's 
name  and  law.  What  a  vast  volume  of  rending, 
riving  sounds  passes  up  daily  into  the  heavens  !  How 
the  innocent  and  timid  air  shivers  and  shrinks  at  the 
awful  word,  the  coarse  allusion,  and  the  blasphe- 
mous jest !  What  patience  there  must  be  in  God 
to  endure  it !  Who  can  measure  that  forbearance 
which  tolerates,  that  love  which  pities,  and  that  mer- 
cy which  forgives  ?     What  man  is  there  of  you  all, 


THE    TWO    IMMOBTALITIES.  113 

here  to-day,  who  can  henceforth  make  this  bad  condi- 
tion of  our  language  and  our  morals  worse  ?  Who  of 
you  can  ever  again  give  the  influence  of  your  exam- 
ple to  push  on,  deepen,  and  confirm  this  national  sin  ? 
Woe  unto  you  if  you  do !  for  your  profanity  will 
make  others  profane,  and  all  your  oaths  keep  repeating 
themselves,  and  roll  on  forever  after  you  are  gone. 
Have  any  of  you  the  habit  of  resorting  to  stimulants 
as  a  source  of  health,  of  strength,  or  happiness  ? 
Are  any  of  you  living  unworthily,  on  the  level  of 
your  appetites  and  passions,  and  not  of  reason  and 
conscience?  If  you  are,  I  exhort  you  to  break  off; 
if  not  for  your  own  sakes,  then  for  the  sake  of 
others.  If  you  are  not  in  danger  of  becoming  intem- 
perate yourself,  you  are  doing  the  very  thing  cal- 
culated to  make  others  intemperate.  By  jouv  exam- 
ple, you  are  putting  the  bottle  to  your  neighbor's  lips. 
The  poison  of  your  own  breath  you  are  breathing 
into  other  men's  faces,  and  some  will  receive  the  con- 
tagion, and  be  stricken  with  the  disease  which  eats  out 
all  manhood,  and  die ;  and  unless  you  are  careful,  when, 
in  the  last  analysis  of  cause  and  effect,  God  shall 
unveil  every  thing,  their  death  will  be  traced  direct- 
ly up  to  you.  Are  any  of  you  purposely  sceptical  ? 
Is  your  mistrust  or  denial  of  God's  claims  upon  you 
a  talkative  one  ?  Do  you  boast  of  having  thought 
deepl}^  and  to  no  purpose,  upon  the  claims  of  the  Bi- 
ble, when  yon  have  never  thought  below  the  surface 
of  personal  vanity  and  a  boastful  glibness  of  tongue  ? 
My  friends,  there  is  a  scepticism  that  I  can  respect, 
and  God  can  forgive.     Some  men  are  born  with  a 


114  THE    TWO   IMMORTALITIES. 

strong  sceptical  bias  ;  to  others,  religion  has  been 
made  to  seem  unreal  by  the  hypocrisy  and  inconsist- 
ency of  its  professors.  Its  interpretation  has  been 
so  bad,  that  they  could  not  love  it.  Some  have  thought 
themselves  into  instability  of  faith.  They  grappled 
with  the  great  mysteries  of  God's  nature  and  provi- 
dence, and  were  thrown  ;  and  the  shock  stunned  them, 
and  they  are  bewildered  and  dazed,  and  see  all  things 
dancing,  as  it  were,  before  their  eyes,  and  nothing 
steadfast.  With  such  I  can  sympathize.  He  who 
voyages  day  after  day  in  the  great  ocean  of  religious 
investigation  is  blown  upon  by  many  a  gale  ;  and  it 
is  not  surprising  if  the  prow  of  his  ship,  on  some 
dark  night  when  the  stars  that  have  been  his  hope 
are  overcast,  touches  the  edge  of  that  revolving 
maelstrom  which  sucks  in  many,  and  spares  none, 
,  but  goes  hissing  and  grinding  and  groaning  round 
ijand  round  forever.  But  I  have  no  respect  for  those 
1  vain,  talkative  sceptics,  who  have  never  pondered 
\any  thing  enough  to  bring  gravity  to  their  faces,  or 
bitterness  to  their  disappointment.  To  those  whose 
ignorance  is  so  profound,  that  they  do  not  know  how 
their  gabbling  reveals  their  incapacity;  who  value 
their  so-called  scepticism  as  a  means  to  advertise  tlieir 
smartness  of  tongue  ;  and  whose  erudition  consists  in 
having  memorized,  like  a  parrot,  a  list  of  questions, 
half  of  which,  by  the  very  nature  of  things,  man 
can  answer  only  after  ages  of  observation  and  analy- 
sis have  been  added  to  the  period  that  he  has  al 
ready  lived  on  the  earth,  and  the  other  half  utterly 
unanswerable  until  the  student  stands  in  and  is  as- 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  115 

sisted  by  the  light  of  eternity,  —  to  whichever  class 
you  belong,  friend,  I  urge  you  to  remember  that 
your  scepticism  will  live  after  you.  Your  indifference 
to  religion  will  take  possession  of  many.  Through 
your  words,  through  your  example,  according  to  the 
extent  of  it,  you  will  continue  to  work  away  at 
the  foundation  of  men's  faith,  and  undermine  the 
hopes  of  many.  Looking  down  from  that  world  in 
which  you  will  then  stand,  your  honest  and  your  dis- 
honest doubts  alike  swept  away,  you  will  see,  day  after 
day,  and  year  after  year,  your  destructive  Avork  go  on. 
You  will  hear  the  young  and  reckless  repeat  your 
old  arguments,  sneer  your  old  sneers,  and  laugh  your 
old  mocking  laugh,  at  the  good  and  the  true.  Stand- 
ing in  plain  sight  of  God  yourself,  you  shall  hear  them 
deny  that  there  is  a  God ;  within  view  of  keaven,  its 
glory  discernible  as  is  an  illuminated  city  to  one  who 
stands  afar  off  in  darkness,  seeing  its  radiance,  and 
almost  able  to  catch  the  swell  of  its  music,  you  shall 
hear  your  own  disciples  and  imitators  ridicule  the 
idea  of  a  celestial  life,  and  jest  at  the  piety  of  those 
who  live,  upheld  amid  all  their  troubles,  by  the 
thought  of  heaven.  What  punishment  can  be  great- 
er than  such  a  destiny,  —  the  destiny  of  seeing  your 
own  conduct  imitated,  and  your  own  words  repeated 
forever  ?  Change  your  course,  friend.  Leave  behind 
you  at  death  a  better  immortality  than  that.  Live 
and  talk  so  as  to  add  to  the  hopes,  and  not  to  the 
fears,  the  virtues,  and  not  the  vices,  of  the  world. 
Anchor  yourself  somewhere  :  or,  if  you  cannot  do  this, 
confess  to  all  that  you  are  adrift ;  that  you  are  wor- 


116  THE   TWO    IMMORTALITIES. 

ried  and  wretched,  and  not  satisfied ;  and  your  very 
despair,  in  the  way  of  warning,  will  work  good,  and 
not  evil,  above  your  grave. 

But  I  must  pause :  the  time  to  halt  has  come  ;  and 
yet  my  thought  has  not  reached  the  end  of  its  anti- 
cipated march.  The  subject  grows  upon  me  as  I 
ponder  it.  The  voice  of  it  is  like  the  sound  of  a 
great  sea,  when  the  strong  tides,  driven  by  stronger 
winds,  come  setting  landward,  heavy  and  solemn, 
and  suggestive  of  a  great  depth,  and  of  movement 
far  down,  and  unrevealed  save  to  the  eye  that  sends 
an  intense  gaze  steadily  and  directly  downward.  I 
am  thinking  of  that  influence  which  you  will  all 
leave  behind  when  you  die ;  of  that  immortality 
which  you  cannot  take  with  you  at  death  ;  of  the  in- 
\  visible  powers,  the  unnamed  forces,  the  unsuspected 
tendencies,  that  will  then  represent  both  you  and  me. 
I  do  not  exhort  you  :  I  know  no  words  grave  or 
tender  enough  to  express  my  feelings.  I  sit  you 
down,  I  sit  down  with  you,  at  the  base  of  this  solemn 
and  majestic  thought,  and  say,  "  Friends,  let  us  re- 
flect." How  are  we  living?  What  are  we  doing? 
In  what  should  we  change  ourselves  ?  With  whom 
shall  we  stay  after  death  as  a  source  of  patience,  of 
strength,  of  consolation  ?  These  are  plummet-inter- 
rogations ;  and  they  sound  the  very  depths  of  our 
duty  and  our  attainments. 

But,  friends,  di-eadful  as  is  the  thought  that  our 
evil  will  live  after  us,  sweet,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the 
reflection,  that  w^hatever  is  good  in  us  shall  likewise 
never  die.     The  virtues  and  moralities  of  our  lives 


THE    TWO    IMMORTALITIES.  117 

shall  live,  and  live,  too,  as  seeds  in  the  world.  Nor 
will  they  be  as  seeds  garnered  up  and  locked  within 
the  enclosure  of  one  life  :  for  death  shall  be  as  a  sow- 
er to  them,  and  cast  them  far  and  wide  ;  and  they  shall 
become,  in  their  growth  and  blossoming  and  fruitful- 
ness,  the  common  property  of  all,  and  the  heritage 
of  the  ages.  Whatever  is  sweet  and  gracious  in  us 
shall  not  perish,  but  share  in  the  immortality  of  good- 
ness. It  shalLmoye  through  time  like  a  scented  wind, 
bringing  health  to  the  sick,  and  refreshment  to  the 
tired.  The  best  in  us  shall  live,  growing  better  as  it 
lives  ;  each  new  embodiment  shall  give  it  a  fuller 
expression ;  and  looking  down  from  heaven,  whose 
joy  shall  spring  in  part  from  the  spectacle,  we  shall 
see  ourselves  living  in  endless  usefulness  upon  the 
earth.  If  you  and  I,  my  friend,  can  leave  such  an 
immortality  behind  us  at  death,  then  will  it  be  pleas- 
ant, and  not  painful,  to  die.  Our  life  shall  end  like 
a  sweet  passage  in  some  endless  song,  whose  closing 
note  is  lost  and  swallowed  up  in  the  nobler  note  that 
follows.  We  shall  go  to  our  death  as  young  birds  go 
to  their  rest  at  night,  unto  whom  growth  comes  amid 
the  darkness,  and  they  wake  at  morning  with  stronger 
wings  and  brighter  plumage. 


SABBATH  MORJ^IKG,  XOY.  Id,  1871. 


SERMOK 


TOPIC- PROSPERITY  AS   PROMOTIVE  OF  CHRISTIAN   GROWTH. 
"The  lines  are  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places."  — Ps.  xvL  6 

THE  figure  employed  in  our  text  is  one  suggested 
by  the  measuring  of  land.  The  "  lines  "  spoken 
of  are  those  which  were  drawn  around  a  piece  of  land 
to  distinguish  the  rights  of  ownersliip,  and  give  one 
legal  possession ;  and  the  idea  of  the  exclamation  on 
the  part  of  the  Psalmist  is,  that,  by  the  measuring-out 
or  allotment  of  God's  bounty,  great  and  desirable 
possessions  had  been  bestowed  upon  him,  and  made 
him  rich.  The  word  ''  places,"  also,  which  gives  a 
certain  materialistic  significance  to  the  expression, 
might  with  equal  justice  —  and,  I  think,  with  more  — 
be  translated  "  things :  "  and  the  passage  would  then 
read,  "  The  lines  have  fallen  to  me  in  pleasant 
things ; "  or,  "  God  has  bestowed  upon  me  pleasant 
things :  "  and  the  suggestion  would  then  be  of  a 
wealth  bestowed  nobler  than  material  prosperity,  — 
even  of  all  those  blessings  and  mercies  and  gifts  re- 
ceived in  life,  and  by  which  it  is  made  truly  rich  and 
happy.     And  what  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  of  this 

118 


PEOSPERITY  AS  PROMOTIVE  119 

morning  is  the  tendency  or  influence  of  prosperity 
upon  character,  and  the  use  we  should  make  of  it. 

I  look  upon  this  passage,  friends,  as  the  exclama- 
tion of  the  Psalmist  when  in  one  of  his  best  moods. 
He  was  not  alwaj^s  a  good  man.  He  had  his  sins ; 
and  very  gross  ones  they  were  too.  He  was  not  al- 
ways in  a  fit  condition  to  write  psalms  either  for  him- 
self or  his  people.  But  whatever  his  sinfulness,  his 
duplicity,  or  his  grossness,  might  occasionally  be,  God's 
Spirit  was  continually  working  away  in  his  heart.  Pie 
was  a  very  bad  man  at  times.  The  atmosphere  of  his 
life  was  often  hot  and  heavy,  and  fall  of  deadly  exhala- 
tions that  rose  from  the  mirk  and  mire  of  his  passions, 
and  obscured  the  sun  and  heavens,  and  all  bright 
things ;  and  a  vile  darkness  brooded  around  him,  and 
was  loved  by  him  because  it  masked  his  unseemly  or- 
gies. More  than  once  did  God  have  to  explode 
his  thunders  above  his  head,  and  burn  tlte  fetid  air 
dry  with  his  lightnings,  and  discharge  his  judgments 
down  upon  him  in  showers.  But  after  God  had  thus 
visited  upon  him  his  merciful  anger,  and  put  the 
chastisement  of  love  upon  him  ;  after  he  had  humbled 
his  pride,  checked  his  wicked  ambition,  allowed  him 
to  feel  the  curse  of  his  own  grossness,  and  recalled 
him,  as  a  shock  will  often  recall  a  somnambulist,  to 
his  senses,  —  how  noble  and  beautiful  he  became  ! 
and  his  nature  went  out  in  grateful  expressions  toward 
God,  as  a  flower-garden,  after  a  thunder-shower,  sends 
its  perfumes  up  into  the  moist  air,  loading  the  low-fly- 
ing breezes  with  odors. 

Well,  as  I  was  saying,  David  must  have  been  in 


120  OF   CHRISTIAN   GROWTH. 

some  such  delightful  state  when  he  indited  this  psalm. 
Whatever  was  good,  grateful,  and  hopefully  prophetic 
in  his  nature  must  have  been  in  the  ascendant.  He 
begins  with  expressions  of  devotion,  which  seem  to 
reach  out  after,  take  hold  of,  and  grow  warm  from 
contact  with,  Christ.  Some  translate  the  Hebrew 
term  which  designates  this  psalm  "  golden  ; "  in  which 
case  it  might  be  called  the  "golden  psalm,"  and  my 
text  a  golden  text,  and  the  passage  a  golden  exclama- 
tion of  praise,  of  grateful  acknowledgment  of  God's 
goodness,  and  of  adoring  love.  And  so  I  do  regard 
it.  It  is  a  kind  of  rapturous,  exultant,  joyful  outbreak, 
surging  up  from  the  Psalmist's  heart,  breaking  into 
music  on  his  lips,  and  poured  forth  into  the  ear  of 
every  age  as  a  bii'd  pours  forth  her  rapturous  song, 
when,  perched  on  the  topmost  twig  of  a  motionless 
tree,  she  sends  a  prolonged  strain  out  through  the 
quivering  air  toward  the  setting  sun,  until  the  orchard 
and  the  entire  neighborhood  are  filled  with  notes  and 
quavers  and  trills  and  rushes  of  sweet  sounds.  He 
was  not  in  a  despondent  mood.  His  thoughts  were 
not  heavy  nor  raven-like.  His  mind  was  in  a  hope- 
ful, grateful,  adoring  state. 

My  people,  I  have  spoken  of  this  in  the  way  of 
analysis  more  minutely  than  I  should,  that  I  might 
the  more  impressively  draw  forth  from  it  for  your 
profit  certain  inferences  and  applications ;  and  my 
first  suggestion  is,  that  we  are  to  regard  our  daily 
blessings  as  the  true  source  of  our  daily  growth 
spiritually. 

God's  normal  method,  if  I  may  so  speak,  —  that 


PROSPEEITY  AS  PEOMOTIVE  121 

method  which  most  truly  expresses  him,  and  which 
he  loves  the  best,  —  God's  normal  method,  I  say,  of 
developing  men,  is  through  benevolence.  Mercy  and 
blessing,  love  and  charity,  are  the  prompting  impulses 
of  his  nature.  If  he  punishes,  if  he  afflicts,  it  is  only 
that  he  may  check  and  repress  what  man  has  adopted 
of  evil  into  his  system.  But  the  positive,  affirmative 
forces  of  his  administration  are  the  kindly  and  gra- 
cious ones.  To  the  flower  he  expresses  his  love  in 
sunshine,  in  the  needed  elements  of  soil,  in  dew  and 
rain,  and  all  that  sweet  and  mystic  chemistry  of  earth 
and  air  best  calculated  to  develop  flower-life.  The 
same  provision  of  mercy  extends  over  the  animal 
kingdom,  over  bird  and  insect,  and  the  hidden  life  of 
the  sea.  Science  has  already  advanced  so  far,  analy- 
sis has  already  been  carried  down  so  deep  into  details, 
that  the  whole  earth  has  become  a  mirror,  in  which 
we  see  reflected  the  tireless  energies  of  God,  work- 
ing in  swiftest  industry  to  feed  and  clothe  the  vast 
families  of  his  creation.  It  seems  to  be  a  point  with 
him  —  as  one  might  expect  it  would  be  of  infinite 
power,  confident  in  its  own  resources  —  to  carry  every 
thing  forward  by  easy  processes  of  development,  and 
along  easy  avenues  of  progress.  It  is  not  natural 
for  God  to  toil  in  growth,  experience  sudden  and 
violent  interruptions,  and  reach  perfection  through 
re-formation,  and  not  unchecked  expansion.  His  toil 
has  a  restful  quality  in  it:  it  is  only  the  play  and 
healthful  exercise  of  a  capacity  so  superior  to  every 
emergency,  that  it  is  never  taxed ;  and  what  he  does 
he  does  easily.     His  power  soars  to  its  loftiest  flight, 


122  OF  CHKISTIAN   GROWTH. 

sweeps  grandly  around  its  widest  circle,  with  a  wing 
sublimely  at  rest,  whose  motion  is  communicated 
from  invisible  forces  around  it,  or  generated  out  of 
the  vital  buoyancy  of  its  own  structure  and  plumage. 

I  do  not  like  that  idea  of  God  which  conceives  of 
him  as  best  symbolized  by  an  axe  and  pruning-knife ; 
as  best  expressed  in  the  thunder  which  frightens  the 
timid,  and  brings  destruction  to  the  innocent.  I  hear 
his  progress  through  the  earth,  but  not  in  the  sound 
of  sobbing  and  lamentation ;  not  in  groans  of  be- 
reavement, and  the  explosions  of  pistol-shots,  with 
which  men,  in  the  anguish  of  despair,  blow  out  their 
brains.  Nor  do  I  see  him  in  faces  wet  with  tears  or 
writhing  in  pain,  in  homes  broken  up,  clasped  hands 
parted,  and  the  wreck  of  happy  human  hopes.  I 
do  not  say  that  my  heavenly  Father's  voice  may  not 
be  heard  amid  such  sounds  at  times ;  I  do  not  say 
that  his  sweet  face  may  never  be  seen  amid  such 
surroundings :  but  I  do  say  that  these  awful  sights 
and  sounds  and  surroundings  do  not  express  him. 
If  he  is  in  these,  he  is  in  them  by  constraint.  He 
deals  his  judgments  out  as  a  good,  peace-loving  man 
does  a  blow,  —  to  vindicate  authority  or  save  life,  and 
not  because  he  loves  to  strike  and  punish  men.  His 
harshness  is  judicial,  not  natural.  He  strikes  at  the 
sin,  and  forgives  the  sinner  at  the  same  moment. 

I  fear,  friends,  that  I  do  not  bring  my  thought  out 
clearly ;  and  I  trust  to  your  intelligence,  more  than 
to  any  accuracy  in  my  statement,  to  catch  my  con- 
ception as  it  stands  shaped  in  my  own  mind  and 
soul,  rather  than  as  it  appears  clothed  in  the  poverty 


PROSPERITY   AS  PROMOTIVE  123 

of  my  verbal  expression.  But  tins  I  say,  God  is 
love.  His  nature  is  amiable  —  infinitely  so  —  and 
tender  and  sympathetic ;  and  the  natural^  normal  ex- 
pression of  his  chaiacter  is,  like  himself,  merciful  and 
kindly.  Happy  himself,  he  plans  for  the  happiness 
of  his  creatures.  Not  to  separate,  but  to  unite ;  not 
to  disappoint  and  vex,  but  to  bless  and  delight ;  not 
to  distress  and  impoverish,  but  to  console  and  enrich 
men, — is  his  endeavor.  This  is  the  spirit,  as  I  under- 
stand it,  which  lies  back  of  his  providences,  directing 
and  controlling  them ;  this  is  the  face,  which,  amid 
the  gathering  of  all  mists,  and  out  of  the  blackness 
of  every  cloud,  I  see  looking  in  the  brightness  of  love 
and  benevolence  upon  me. 

I  am  Constantly  calling  your  attention,  my  people, 
to  God's  nature,  because  it  is  only  as  you  understand 
his  nature  that  you  can  rightly  interpret  his  ways. 
You  cannot  understand  the  character  of  a  man's  con- 
duct, morally  considered,  until  you  understand  his 
motive.  Error  of  judgment  is  not  sin ;  but  malicious- 
ness of  thought  and  purpose  is.  It  is  the  heart,  and 
not  the  hand,  which  colors  the  deed.  If,  for  in- 
stance, you  look  only  at  the  outward  and  visible  in 
providence,  you  cannot  account  for,  you  cannot  vin- 
dicate, it.  The  good  suffer,  and  the  wicked  live  at 
ease.  What  would  strengthen  and  elevate  one  man 
or  woman  is  forbidden ;  the  heaven  that  life  might 
be  is  denied  them,  although  they  seek  it  purely  and 
with  strong  crying :  while  what  weakens  and  destroys 
another,  what  is  not  appreciated,  what  cannot  be 
appropriated,    and    which,    perhaps,    is    perverted, 


124  OF   CHEISTIAN  GROWTH. 

is  lavishly  bestowed  upon  him.  The  lip  which 
quivers  for  the  water  dies  uncooled  by  the  blessed 
drop  ;  while  the  lip  which  is  moist  with  constant  re- 
freshment turns  from  the  proffered  cup,  which  con- 
tinues to  stand  undrained  and  untasted.  Reasoning 
from  such  data,  any  imaginable  injustice  might  be 
put  upon  God,  and  the  divine  Governor  be  made  to 
appear  as  a  creature  of  cruel  and  outrageous  impulses, 
a  being  to  dread  and  abhor. 

You  must,  therefore,  look  deeper  and  farther  than 
into  and  at  the  nature  of  what  occurs  about  us  in 
this  world,  where  every  thing  is  jostled  and  out  of 
place,  in  order  to  see  the  symmetry  and  perfectness 
which  inhere  in  the  plans  and  purposes  of  God  as 
prompted  by  his  nature.  Yon  must  search  for  an 
opening  in  the  cloud  through  which  to  see  the  clean, 
clear  blue  above  and  beyond.  You  must  separate 
yourself  from  the  noise  and  tumult  and  cursing  of  a 
discordant  world  and  life  or  ever  your  ears  can  be 
filled  with  the  coming-forth  of  that  sweet  harmony 
which  issues  from  God.  Then,  and  only  then,  do  you 
see  how  benevolent  and  placid  is  his  face ;  then, 
and  only  then,  do  you  discover  how  sweet,  and  only 
sweet,  is  the  sound  of  his  natural  voice. 

Objecting  therefore,  as  I  do,  to  that  interpretation 
of  God  which  presents  him  as  harsh,  severe,  and 
unamiable  in  his  mode  of  government  over  us,  I  object 
with  the  same  emphasis  to  that  conception  which 
links  Christian  development  with  the  sad  and  unfor- 
tunate in  life,  with  deprivation  and  bereavement, 
with  repression  and  disappointment.    God  might  have 


PROSPERITY   AS   PROMOTIVE  125 

made  flowers  to  blossom  under  a  sky  dismal  wibh 
clouds,  and  unwarmed  by  any  sun ;  but,  in  order  to  have 
done  it,  he  must,  as  a  prior  condition,  have  made  the 
flower-nature  different,  and  made  floral  development 
to  depend  on  other  causes  than  it  now  does.  And  so  I 
do  not  deny  that  God  might  have  made  our  graces  to 
abound  and  flourish  even  by  such  agencies  as  sorrow 
and  misfortune,  and  by  a  treatment  severe  and  for- 
bidding, if  not  actually  cruel ;  but  I  do  say,  that,  in 
order  to  do  this,  he  must,  as  a  prior  condition,  have 
made  human  nature  other  than  it  to-day  is.  Con- 
structed as  men  and  women  are,  I  hold  that  sunshine, 
the  pleasant  and  cheerful,  in  cause  and  effect,  bring 
them  forward  in  goodness  more  rapidly  than  the  dis- 
agreeable and  the  gloomy.  Love  operates  better  on 
a  man  than  hate.  Hope  is  a  healthier  stimulant  than 
despair.  Success  is  more  succulent  with  sweet  juices 
than  failure.  You  may  take  poverty,  and  its  effect 
upon  men  and  women  and  children,  as  an  illustra- 
tion. 

There  is  nothing  I  dislike  more  than  to  hear  people 
with  good  clothes  on  their  backs,  and  twenty  clerks 
to  come  and  go  at  the  motion  of  their  finger,  eulogize 
poverty.  For  one,  I  hate  it,  and  always  have,  and 
always  expect  to.  When  a  family  has  to  practise  an 
unnatural  frugality,  it  is  a  curse.  It  imbitters  man- 
hood, and  shrivels  up  womanhood.  It  begets  envy, 
and  discontent  with  one's  lot,  and  murmurings  against 
God.  It  wrinkles  prematurely  the  face  of  beauty 
with  the  ugly  lines  of  excessive  care ;  renders  one 
harsh  and  querulous  in  speech,  and  unamiable  in  tem- 


126  OF   CHRISTIAN   GROWTH. 

per.  It  makes  generosity  impossible,  by  the  exercise 
of  which  the  nature  is  ennobled.  It  denies  one  the 
means  of  culture,  forbids  the  mind  that  leisure  which 
it  requires  for  the  acquisition  of  a  helpful  knowledge, 
and  chains  a  man  down  until  life  has  no  nobler  object 
than  to  obtain  food  wherewith  to  supply  his  lower  and 
daily -recurring  wants.  Thus  every  day  consumes  the 
entire  result  of  its  own  toil,  and  leaves  no  surplus  for 
the  future.  The  physical  is  thus  elevated  until  it 
entirely  overtops  in  importance  and  necessity  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual,  and  man  becomes  simply  a 
rational  animal.  To  my  mind,  poverty  is  something 
to  hate  and  fly  from.  It  dwarfs  the  mind,  oppresses 
the  soul,  imbitters  the  heart,  and  stints  the  growth 
and  usefulness  of  man.  I  know  that  Christ  bore 
it ;  but  he  bore  it  as  he  did  all  the  other  wretched 
conditions  and  surroundings  of  mortal  life,  —  to  show 
that  it  could  be  borne,  and  because  it  behooved  the 
Captain  of  our  salvation  to  be  made  perfect  through 
suffering.  The  saddest  thing  he  ever  said,  as  I  think, 
and  that  which  sounded  out  of  a  dejection  and  a  sense 
of  debasement  deeper  than  are  betrayed  in  any  other 
passage,  was  his  exclamation  touching  his  poverty. 
"  The  birds  of  the  air,"  he  said,  "  have  nests,  and  the 
foxes  have  holes  ;  but  the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where 
to  lay  his  head."  That  was  bitter  indeed;  and  it 
needed  all  his  divine  meekness  and  patience  to  endure 
it  unmurmuringly.  There  is  a  vast  deal  of  affecta- 
tion, and  more  of  ignorance,  in  the  way  people  speak 
of  this  thing,  and  others  of  like  character.  The}'  are 
neither  honest  nor  intelligent  in  their  analysis  of  the 


PROSPEEITY  AS  PROMOTIVE  127 

food  which  nourishes  their  best  growth.  When  I 
hear  a  man  talk  about  poverty  being  a  blessing  to  him, 
I  think  that  he  doesn't  know  what  poverty  is,  or  else 
that  he  misused  his  wealth  when  he  was  rich.  When  a 
person  tells  me  that  a  fit  of  sickness  has  been  his  sal- 
vation, I  know  that  he  must  have  lived  very  wickedly 
when  he  was  well.  Because,  here  and  there,  you  find 
a  man  who  must  be  about  killed  before  he  will  become 
good,  it  does  not  prove  that  life  is  not  desirable,  and 
the  right  time,  as  the  old  hymn  saj^s,  to  serve  the 
Lord.  I  do  not  say  that  great  wealth  is  desirable,  any 
more  than  that  the  earth  would  be  made  more  pro- 
ductive if  it  were  inundated  with  a  flood :  but  I  do 
say  that  a  moderate  amount  of  rain  is  better  for  a 
farmer  than  a  prolonged  drought ;  and  so  a  fair  share 
of  the  good  things  of  life  is  better,  immeasurabl}^  bet- 
ter, for  the  development  of  amiable  graces  in  the  soul 
and  temper,  than  a  pinching  and  oppressive  depri- 
vation. I  believe,  that,  under  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion, wealth  has  become  a  blessing ;  and  the  more  a 
man  has,  so  long  as  God's  Spirit  dwells  in  his  heart, 
the  better  he  will  become.  If  I  could  have  my  way, 
—  and  I  say  it  soberly,  and  with  a  great  wish  in  my 
heart  for  God's  glory  and  your  eternal  good,  —  I 
would  make  every  poor  man  in  my  congregation  rich. 
I  would  put  comfort,  and  appliances  of  culture  (includ- 
ing a  piano),  into  every  tenement-house  in  this  city.  I 
would  take  worry  from  the  poor  man's  mind,  and  anxi- 
ety about  the  temporal  support  of  herself  and  orphan- 
children  from  the  mother's  heart.  I  would  give  every 
beneficiary  on  our  charity  a  home  and  books,  a  well- 


128  OF   CHEISTIAN  GPwOWTH. 

furnished  table  and  a  warm  bed,  and  make  the  divine 
exercise  of  benevolence  possible  to  every  one.  I 
believe  that  a  great  many  people  would  be  much  bet- 
ter than  they  are  if  they  were  not  so  poor.  Their 
poverty  cramps  them  and  dwarfs  them,  and  puts  a 
great  temptation  upon  them  to  lie  and  steal  and 
deceive ;  hardens  them,  makes  them  reckless,  and 
sends  them  to  the  bottle  in  the  hope  of  finding  in 
unconsciousness  a  refuge  from  their  troubles  and  a 
surcease  of  sorrow.  I  know  that  God  pities  all 
such,  and  forgives  many.  He  sees  the  strong  man's 
despair,  and  the  widow's  tears  ;  and  his  ears  are 
forever  open  to  the  moans  of  those  children  who  moan 
in  their  sleep  because  they  are  hungry.  And  when 
the  great  and  glad  day  for  which  the  world  has  waited 
so  long  has  at  last  come,  and  men  stand  in  the 
uprightness  of  that  liberty  which  all  shall  enjoy,  one 
curse  from  which  man  shall  be  delivered  will  be  the 
curse  of  poverty  ;  and  there  shall  not  be  a  beggar  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  or  a  single  soul  in  need  of  any 
thing  which  is  calculated  to  develop  his  faculties,  or 
minister  to  his  happiness. 

I  am  willing  to  bring  this  to  the  test  of  experience. 
For  one,  I  can  bear  witness,  that  while  adversity  has 
toughened  me,  and  added  to  the  power  of  simple  en- 
durance, and  brought  a  kind  of  grim  patience  to  me, 
while  it  has  made  me  more  set  and  determined  and 
imperious,  it  has  not,  so  far  as  I  can  ascertain,  made 
me  amiable  or  virtuous  or  happy.  If  any  thing  in 
me  has  flowered  out  sweetly,  if  any  moral  fragrance 
has  been  imparted  to  me,  if  my  labors  have  ever 


PEOSPERITY   AS  PROMOTIVE  129 

been  lightened  by  the  incoming  of  cheerfulness,  it 
has  not  been  effected  through  trouble  and  sickness 
and  financial  embarrassment.  I  can  truly  say,  that 
I  have  never  been  tortured  into  goodness.  Not  by 
the  blustering  of  March  winds,  or  the  descent  of 
sharp-cutting  hail,  or  the  icing  of  pitiless  frost,  have 
the  few  flowers  which  may  have  blossomed  in  the 
garden  of  my  life  been  brought  forward  ;  but  these 
have  grown,  and  passed  from  the  germinal  to  the  floral 
state,  in  those  seasons,  when  above  and  around  me, 
like  a  warm  atmosphere,  brooded  the. summer-like 
experiences  of  God's  love.  To  change  the  figure,  I 
have  always  sailed  the  fastest,  and  steered  the 
straightest,  when,  in  the  heavens  ahead  of  me,  God 
hung  out  some  great  star  ;  when,  in  brief,  I  could 
say,  and  was  compelled  to  say,  because  of  the  very 
abundance  of  my  blessings,  "  The  lines  have  fallen  to 
me  in  pleasant  places." 

I  feel,  friends,  that  God  intends  this  to  be  so.  This 
is  the  true  order  of  growth,  because  it  comes  through 
the  right  improvement,  and  not  the  perversion,  the 
use,  and  not  the  abuse,  of  his  blessings.  If  you  have 
health,  then  you  should  be  better  because  of  your 
health ;  if  beauty,  then  you  should  be  nobler  be- 
cause of  your  beaut}^ ;  if  riches,  then  your  riches 
should  assist  your  soul  in  its  divine  growth.  Any 
other  philosophy  than  this  reverses  the  order  of 
God's  government,  and  converts  favorable  into  un- 
favorable conditions  of  life.  Any  other  analysis  com- 
pels us  to  mistrust  his  wisdom,  and  impeach  his  be- 
nevolence ;   for  the  favorable   in   nature   and  grace 

6* 


130  OF  CHRISTIAN  GROWTH. 

certainly  has  precedent  of  the  unfavorable.  Light 
performs  more  ministries  to  the  vegetable  kingdom 
than  darkness  ;  day  ripens  more  seed  than  night. 
Adam  was  originally  located  in  Eden,  and  was  ban- 
ished only  when  it  was  shown  that  he  did  not  appre- 
ciate the  blessing. 

In  addition  to  this  primal  law  in  his  economy, 
God  is  continually  sending  extraordinary  mercies 
to  us,  and  stirring  men  by  extraordinary  stimulants. 
He  enriches  life  by  those  benefactions  which  come  in 
the  way  of  surprises,  and  are  notably  of  him  because 
so  potential  for  good.  Life,  as  you  all  know,  is  not 
measured  by  time,  but  by  events  and  experiences. 
Now  and  then  a  great  event  occurs,  so  notable  and 
impressive,  that  it  possesses  the  memory  and  imagina- 
tion, and  all  our  after-actions  are  dated  from  it.  Some 
death,  some  birth,  some  calamity,  some  mighty  deliv- 
erance from  danger,  —  these  furnish  divisions  for  our 
calendar,  and  mark  the  epochs  of  our  lives.  Some- 
times a  great  and  divine  love,  being  conceived  of  Goyd, 
is  born  within  one,  so  gracious,  so  superior,  that  it 
makes  all  one's  nature  seem  only  as  the  manger  in 
which  it  lies ;  while  every  reverent  faculty,  guided  by 
the  star  of  its  faith,  brings  to  it  myrrh  and  frankin- 
cense, and  it  becomes  to  the  man  his  savior.  More 
than  one  man  has  been  saved  in  this  way,  —  saved 
from  despondency,  from  temptation,  from  sin.  Every 
soul  must  have  some  divine  impulse  in  it,  or  it  will 
never  move  on  in  the  divine  life.  Every  pilot  must 
have  some  landmark,  some  beacon,  some  star,  to  steer 
by,  or  his  hand  will  let  go  the  wheel  in  doubt  and 


PROSPERITY  AS  PROMOTIVE  131 

sheer  despair.  And  when  such  an  experience  is 
granted  one ;  when  the  best  in  him  is  brought  out  by 
contact  with  something  better  than  itself ;  when  con- 
nection with  purity  ehcits  purity,  and  a  hope  hoher 
than  he  ever  had  known  springs  up  within  him,  and 
takes  a  celestial  form,  and  bends  over  him  with  a  face 
like  a  star,  —  how  it  enriches,  how  it  glorifies  him  ! 
Forces  in  his  nature,  hitherto  unknown,  are  felt,  as 
the  sap  in  spring-time  is  felt  in  the  tree  ;  and  his  fac- 
ulties leaf  out,  and  all  his  graces,  which  had  existed 
only  as  possibilities,  bud  and  blossom,  and  become 
actual.  His  capacities  are  multiplied:  what  was 
dormant  is  aroused  to  action  ;  and  the  dead  sea-level 
of  life  breaks  into  ripples  under  the  heavenly  im- 
pulse, and  his  energies  go  voyaging  forth  in  the  swift 
traffic  of  benevolence  like  ships  with  flowing  sails. 
What  a  change  has  come  over  the  man  !  He  labors 
now  like  birds,  who  sing  as  they  toil  at  their  nest- 
building.  Duty  becomes  joy,  and  service  tuneftd; 
self-denial  is  a  pleasure,  and  spending  a  gain. 

Surely,  friends,  you  understand  what  I  mean.  You 
have  had  such  seasons;  you  have  had  such  blessings. 
You  know  I  am  speaking  of  causes  which  have 
wrought  the  noblest  and  sweetest  results  of  your 
lives;  of. influences  that  have  made  you  happy  as 
mothers  and  fathers,  as  husbands  and  wives,  as 
brothers  and  sisters  and  lovers  ;  of  experiences  which 
were  a  revelation  in  themselves,  and  without  which 
you  would  never  have  known  the  length  and  breadth, 
the  height  and  depth,  either  of  God's  love  or  of 
your  own  nature.     These  deep  and  holy  feelings  are 


132  OF  CHRISTIAN  GROWTH. 

revelations,  sweetly  revealing  sweet  things  in  us. 
Without  them  we  should  never  have  known  how 
much  we  could  suffer  or  enjoy.  They  put  a  new  and 
larger  definition  to  happiness ;  enlarge  the  circumfer- 
ence of  our  being,  until  we  are  astonished  at  how 
much  we  can  include  and  appropriate  ;  and  we  walk 
about  and  think  and  dream  in  a  kind  of  bewilder- 
ment, and  are  strangers  unto  our  old  self.  We  won- 
der how  we  could  have  been  so  selfish,  so  content  with 
the  old  state  of  things.  The  sights  and  sounds  and 
experiences  that  filled  us  formerly  are  so  meagre  now ! 
We  had  lived  on  husks,  without  knowing  it,  until  we 
had  a  taste  of  the  divine  bread ;  but  now  we  fare  and 
feel  as  the  children  of  kings,  whose  natures  and  con- 
dition are  royal.  Have  you  never  seen  a  man  lifted 
suddenly  out  of  selfishness,  and  made  generous,  by 
the  incoming  of  such  a  power  to  his  soul  ?  Have  you 
never  seen  rudeness  teach  itself  the  mannerisms  of 
courtesy?  Have  you  not  seen  the  naturally  in- 
dolent made  industrious,  the  sluggish  active,  the 
rough  become  gentle,  and  the  sceptical  taking  kindly 
and  reverently  to  the  habits  of  devotion,  under  the 
stimulant  of  such  causes  ?  Why,  friends,  it  is  that 
man  may  have  light  by  which  to  walk  that  God  has 
set  the  sun  in  the  heavens  by  day,  and  the-  moon  and 
stars  at  night.  It  is  that  grasses  may  grow,  and  trees 
thrive,  and  flowers  blossom,  and  every  seed  ger- 
minate, that  he  has  filled  the  skies  with  warmth,  the 
clouds  with  rain,  and  the  air  with  refreshing  agita- 
tions. This  is  their  mission.  In  all  these  God's 
benevolence   is   heard,   and    heard,   too,   in  melody 


PEOSPF-rirTY   AS  PROMOTIVE  133 

throughout  the  world.  And  so  it  is  in  the  case  of  his 
ministrations  to  the  moral  and  spiritual  development 
of  man.  He  elicits  growth  by  attractions  too  sweet 
to  be  resisted.  He  centres  upon  us  powers  as  potent 
as  is  the  solar  beam  to  the  uplifted  flower :  we  can- 
not droop ;  we  cannot  remain  pent ;  our  faculties 
will  lift  themselves,  and  unfold  in  all  their  maturing 
loveliness,  in  the  face  of  those  irresistible  and  gra- 
cious forces  streaming  downward  upon  them  from 
him. 

A  few  words,  now,  in  the  way  of  direct  application. 
And,  in  the  first  place,  let  us  who  have  been  favored 
in  the  circumstances  of  our  life  call  up  in  remem- 
brance, and  make  mention  before  the  Lord,  all  his 
benefits  to  us.  You  have  memories :  exercise  them, 
a  moment,  in  the  way  of  reminiscence.  Many  of  you 
who  are  before  me  are  advanced  in  years.  It  is  a 
long  road  you  have  travelled,  friend,  since  you  came 
to  this  city  as  a  boy.  There  have  been  steep  places  in 
it,  and  sudden  turns.  Some  of  you  are  higher  in  wealth 
and  reputation  than  you  ever  expected  then  to  stand. 
You  were  ambitious ;  but  you  have  gained  more  than 
you  had  hope  or  knowledge  to  anticipate.  You 
never  expected  to  be  as  rich,  or  as  honored,  or  as 
well  known,  as  you  are.  God  has  done  great  things 
for  you.  He  has  co-operated  with  you  in  his  provi- 
dence ;  he  has  delivered  you  in  sickness,  and  more 
than  once  warded  from  you  a  sudden  and  violent 
death:  though  a  thousand  fell  at  your  right  hand, 
and  ten  thousand  at  your  left,  yet  you  have  not  been 
moved.     And  you  stand  before  us  to-day,  your  family 


134  OF  CHRISTIAN  GROWTH. 

and  property  grouped  around  you,  a  monument  of 
God's  preserving  and  fostering  care.  How  has  all 
this  affected  you  ?  how  does  it  affect  you  to-day  ? 
Has  wealth  made  you  grasping?  Has  prominence 
made  you  vain  ?  Has  success  quickened  your  grati- 
tude, and  rendered  you  child-Uke  before  Him  who 
has  given  you  all  you  have,  and  made  you  all  you 
are  ?  Are  you  making  to-day  a  right  use  of  your 
prosperity  ?  Has  your  obedience  been  that  of  love, 
or  that  of  fear?  Have  you  been  as  children  who 
need  only  to  know  the  parent's  wish,  or  as  children 
who  care  nothing  for  the  parent's  wish  unless  it  is 
sustained  and  made  potential  with  a  threat  ? 

Again :  I  ask  jou.  to  reflect  upon  and  call  over  in 
mind  the  manifold  mercies  of  God  to  you  and  yours. 
Go  over  the  long  and  glorious  list.  Think  of  him 
more  as  the  source  of  your  present  blessings  than 
as  the  source  of  future  penalty.  To  some,  I  fear, 
God  is  ever  and  only  a  judge :  they  never  think  of 
him  in  any  other  capacity.  They  never  see  him  save 
as  they  telescope  him  through  the  distorting  lenses 
of  guilt  and  fear.  Reform  yourself,  friend,  and  let 
your  conception  of  him  be  a  more  worthy  and  just 
one.  He  is  not  only  a  judge  :  he  is  your  father ;  you 
are  his  child.  Look  up,  then,  into  his  face ;  and 
when  you  see  its  kindness,  its  beaming  benevolence, 
its  outshining  and  yearning  love,  smiles  will  come,  or 
tears  will  start.  The  thought  of  God's  kindness 
quickens  more  penitence  than  the  fear  of  his  wrath. 
Terror  makes  runaways ;  but  confidence  brings  the 
wanderer  home. 


PROSPERITY  AS   PROMOTIVE  »  135 

Never  will  I  perpetuate  a  theology  of  gloom.  If 
the  whirlwind  and  flame  in  the  olden  time,  when 
men's  minds  were  darkened  and  men's  habits  gross, 
could  not  reveal  God,  how  much  less  may  they  now  ! 
If  the  warm  rains  and  the  gentle  dews  and  bright 
sun  cannot  make  the  garden  fragrant,  and  load  the 
vines  with  purple  fruitfulness,  then,  sure,  the  thun- 
der cannot  do  it.  I  know  that  thunder  is,  at  inter- 
vals, a  beneficence.  Concussions  and  atmospheric 
explosions  serve  their  purpose  in  the  economy  of 
nature.  Flame  and  shock  are  needed.  But  these,  I 
also  know,  and  so  do  you,  are  exceptional  meth- 
ods, —  the  resorts  and  expedients,  and  not  the  usual 
processes  through  which  the  God  of  nature  min- 
isters to  his  own.  If  I  were  telling  you  of  some 
dearly-loved  friend,  some  noble  and  generous  man  or 
perfect  woman,  I  should  not  describe  how  he  looked 
in  some  moment  of  anger,  when  he  found  himself 
imposed  upon,  and  his  features  were  set  as  iron,  and 
his  eyes  blazed  with  a  light  grand,  but  terrible. 
Although  his  anger  was  legitimate,  and  his  wrath  fully 
justified  by  the  emergency,  still  I  should  not  sketch 
him  as  he  stood  and  looked  at  such  a  time ;  for  it 
would  give  you  only  one  phase  of  his  nature,  and  the 
phase,  too,  least  seen  and  needed.  It  would  not  be 
fair  to  him  ;  for  it  would  not  adequately  describe  him. 
I  should  tell  you  rather  of  his  ordinary  appearance 
when  unruffled ;  of  his  manner  of  speech  and  action 
day  by  day.  I  should  take  you  into  his  domestic  life, 
and  show  you  how  patient  and  courteous  he  was  ; 
into  his  public  life,  and  describe  his  integrity  and  zeal ; 


136  OF  CHRISTIAN  GROWTH. 

into  the  centre  of  his  friendships,  and  make  you  see 
him  in  his  loves :  in  short,  I  should  picture  him  to 
you  as  I  knew  him  to  be  in  the  ordinary  expression 
of  his  nature,  and  not  as  he  might  appear  in  the  sud- 
den and  rare  emergencies  of  his  career,  and  so  make 
you  understand  and  love  him.  And  so  I  would  act 
also  in  my  efforts  to  make  people  understand  God. 
If  I  can  only  make  them  understand  and  realize  what 
my  heavenly  Father  is  in  himself  naturally,  I  shall 
feel  that  my  duty  has  been  done,  and  the  strongest 
possible  pressure  put  upon  them  as  rational  beings  to 
love  and  serve  him. 

"  The  lines  are  fallen  unto  us  in  pleasant  places." 
No,  not  fallen :  our  Father's  hand  has  drawn  them  so. 
Love  carried  the  cord,  and  drove  the  stakes,  which 
allotted  to  us  our  fortunes,  and  made  us,  even  in  the 
supply  of  our  physical  comforts,  like  happy  kine, 
which  lie  down,  filled  and  restful,  amid  the  clover- 
heads  and  the  rich  odors  of  the  growing  grasses,  in 
the  fat  meadow-land.  But  more  generous  yet  has 
been  the  divine  allotment  to  us  in  respect  to  our 
minds  and  souls ;  for  he  has  invited  us  to  his  own 
table,  and,  seated  with  his  Son,  we  have  fed  like 
children  of  God.  Oh  the  love  this  Being  should 
have  from  us !  Our  gratitude  should  go  up  before 
him  ceaselessly,  as  the  flame  of  some  strange  incense- 
fire,  that  generates  from  the  air  around  it,  in  burn- 
ing, the  force  that  feeds  its  constant  fervor. 

And  now,  as  those  who  are  sensible  of  God's 
benefits ;  who  hold  their  wealth  and  love  and  friend- 
ships, and  all  dear  things,  as  given  of  him ;  as  those 


CHEISTIAN  GROWTH.  137 

who  adore  him  for  the  loveliness  of  his  nature,  and 
the  benevolence  of  his  ways,  —  we  bow  our  hearts 
in  reverence ;  and,  as  the  simple  yet  perfect  expres- 
sion of  our  praise,  we  say,  "  Our  Father  who  art  in 
heaven,  hallowed  be  thy  name." 


SABBATH  MORKIKG,  JfOV.  26,  1871, 


SERMON. 


SUBJECT. -KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST. 

*'Anb  to  know  the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  knowledge."— 

Ephes.  iii.  19. 

THE  apostle  is  striving  to  impress  the  Church  at 
Ephes  us  with  the  universal  application  of  the 
atonement  as  manifested  in  the  salvation  of  the  Gen- 
tiles. He  beseeches  God  to  enlarge  their  faith  and 
charity,  and  to  give  them,  as  the  crowning  act  of  favor, 
the  grace  to  know  and  understand  the  wonderful  love 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  My  subject,  as  suggested 
by  the  passage,  is,  "  Knowledge  of  Christ."  I  have  a 
strong  desire  that  some  in  this  audience  may  see  Christ 
to-day  as  they  have  never  seen  him  ;  that  they  may 
learn  to  know  him  in  all  his  gracious  offices  in  their 
behalf,  in  all  his  tenderness  of  sympathy,  in  all  the 
height  and  depth  of  his  amazing  love. 

But,  friends,  a  shadow  comes  over  the  landscape  of 
my  hope,  even  as  I  begin  to  speak.  I  fear  that  some 
of  you  here  do  not  even  remotel}^  know  Christ.  If  I 
speak  my  heart  out  to  you,  you  will  not  understand 
me.    You  will  think  I  am  only  preaching,  only  making 

138 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHEIST.  139 

a  sermon,  if  I  should  speak  of  feelings  you  never  felt, 
of  hopes  you  never  had,  of  a  lore  you  never  learned. 
You  are  in  a  Christian  church  without  any  Christian 
experience.  I  am  to  talk  of  a  Saviour  to  people  that 
are  not  saved.  Am  I  unfortunate  in  my  audience,  or 
you  unfortunate  in  your  condition?  You  are  not 
Christians ;  and,  in  saying  this,  had  you  only  eyes  to 
see,  you  would  behold  at  what  a  disadvantage  you 
stand.  You  are  not  Christians ;  which  means  that 
you  live  as  those  who  lived  before  the  star  shone  in 
the  east.  You  are  nineteen  hundred  years  in  the 
rear  of  the  world's  present  position. 

But,  Christian  friends,  not  only  do  some  not  know 
Christ  in  their  experiences,  in  their  personal  motives 
and  aims,  in  their  longing  and  hope,  not  only  are 
•many  all  around  us  Christless  in  their  individual  ex- 
periences and  position,  but,  strange  to  say,  men  there 
are  who  profess  to  be  religious  teachers,  prophets, 
and  interpreters  of  Christianity,  who  know  nothing  of 
Christ  in  their  religion.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  under- 
stood as  saying  that  they  have  never  heard  of  Christ ; 
for  his  fame  has  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and 
entered  into  every  ear.  They  do,  indeed,  have 
knowledge  of  him.  They  know  him  as  the  student 
knows  Plato  and  Socrates,  as  the  military  cadet  knows 
Caesar  and  Napoleon,  as  the  humane  reformer  knows 
Howard  and  Wilberforce.  They  know  him  as  a  good 
and  gracious  man ;  as  a  wise  teacher  of  ethics  ;  as 
a  foe  of  formalism  and  hypocrisy  ;  as  one  who  loved 
truth  more  than  life,  and  ennobled  death,  and  made 
his  name  immortal  by  dying  for  it.    But,  friends,  what 


140  KNOWLEDGE   OF   CHEIST. 

meagre,  what  cold,  what  heartless  knowledge  is  this 
of  the  Son  of  God !  Is  Calvary  to  mean  no  more 
to  my  soul  than  the  prison  in  which  envy  poisoned 
Socrates  ?  Is  the  cross  on  which  the  Saviour  expired 
to  be  to  the  sinful  of  the  world  no  more  than  the 
stake  of  common  martyrdom  ?  Is  the  name  of  Jesus 
to  have  no  deeper  significance  to  human  ears  than 
that  attached  to  one  of  a  thousand  names  treasured 
by  human  speech  ?  Is  Christ  to  be  regarded  no  more 
than  one  of  a  dozen  remarkable  teachers  of  a  remote 
age  ?  Why,  what  is  a  Christless  Christianity  worth  ? 
What  salvation  is  this  without  any  Saviour  in  it  ? 
What  is  this  limp,  this  unblazoned  rag,  with  no 
name,  no  letter  of  light,  on  all  its  surface,  no  golden 
fringe  of  glorious  tradition,  no  stout  staff  of  historic 
evidence  from  which  to  wave  ?  Do  men  think  that 
New  England,  that  the  youth  of  this  generation,  will 
turn  from  the  banner  of  their  fathers,  will  cast  away 
the  glorious  symbol  of  their  glory  and  power,  and 
choose  so  tame,  so  spiritless,  so  cold  an  affair  as  free 
religion,  or  any  religion  which  has  not  the  warmth 
of  a  human  and  the  power  of  the  divine  nature 
beating  in  it?  I  tell  them.  Nay.  I  am  surprised 
that  any  should  feel  the  least  movement  of  alarm  at 
such  exhibitions  of  ignorance  of  the  power  of  faith 
and  the  unquenchable  longings  of  the  human  soul. 
Such  a  religion  has  no  vitality  in  it.  Such  preachers 
have  no  gospel  to  preach,  no  Bible  to  expound,  no 
sin  to  convict,  no  faith  to  declare ;  for,  apart  from 
Christ  as  a  Saviour,  there  is  no  gospel,  no  New  Testa- 
ment, no  pulpit,  no  church.     When  the  Church  is 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST.  141 

only  a  lectnre-liall,  the  pulpit  only  a  lyceum-platform, 
the  New  Testament  only  a  book  of  queer  assertions 
and  blunders,  Jesus  only  a  man,  what  basis  have  you 
for  any  powerful  religious  movement  ?  None  at  all. 
Such  a  religion  is  like  a  ship  whose  parts  are  glued 
together.  The  moment  you  launch  it,  the  instant 
she  touches  the  waters  of  popular  hopes  and  long- 
ings, the  cement  of  speculation  and  theory  melts, 
and  the  stately  fabric  dissolves.  What  looked  so 
grand  and  philosophic  in  Horticultural  Hall  goes  to 
pieces  in  North  Street.  What  dreary  work  it  must 
be  to  preach,  and  yet  have  no  gospel  to  preach !  —  to 
have  the  crowds  thronging  to  you,  the  halt,  the 
blind,  the  leprous,  all  crying,  "  Who  will  open  my 
eyes  ?  "  "  Who  will  heal  this  withered  limb  ?  "  "  Who 
can  cure  me  of  this  loathsome  disease?"  and  yet 
know  of  no  physician  to  whom  to  direct  them !  A 
teacher  of  Christianity  not  know  Christ !  a  pul- 
pit ignoring  the  New  Testament !  a  person  claiming 
to  be  inspired  to  preach,  who  makes  a  sermon  one 
long  laugh  at  inspiration !  Truly,  friends,  of  all 
novelties  I  have  seen  in  an  age  which  seeks  to  revive 
the  ancient  juggleries,  this  is  the  strangest.  Poor, 
pitiful  substitute  indeed  is  this  for  the  faith,  the 
hope,  the  joy,  the  growth  in  holiness,  which  the  gos- 
pel gives.  He  who  can  tell  this  age  of  no  better 
heaven  than  man's  mind  can  conceive,  and  man's  vir- 
tue claim,  has  no  place  among  the  religious  forces  of 
the  day. 

No  :  I  take  no  alarm,  I  borrow  no  trouble,  from  such 
an  effort.     There  is  not  religious  force  enough  in  a 


142  KNOWLEDGE  OF   CHEIST. 

Christless  religion  to  propel  it  twenty  years.  There 
is  no  converting  power  in  such  a  religion.  It  is  un- 
real, shadowy.  It  does  not  take  hold  of  the  popular 
heart.  It  puts  no  grasp  of  power  upon  men's  con- 
sciences. Its  fingers,  I  admit,  may  be  delicately  shaped, 
and  beautifully  tinted*:  but  they  are  fingers  of  wax, 
and  not  of  flesh  and  blood  ;  there  are  no  muscles  in 
them.  The  good  abhor  such  a  religion  as  impious  ; 
and  the  wicked  know,  that,  if  they  ever  should  make 
an  effort  to  be  good,  it  must  be  from  some  higher, 
holier,  mightier  motive  than  it  yields.  I  do  not  ask 
you  if  you  know  Christ  as  I  would  inquire  whether 
you  are  cognizant  of  some  delightful  piece  of  knowl- 
edge. Faith  in  a  Saviour,  a  Helper,  a  Friend,  is 
not  a  mere  matter  of  preference :  it  is  a  matter  of 
necessity.  The  conditions  of  your  daily  lives  are 
such,  your  exposure  to  calamity  is  such,  your  tempta- 
tions are  such,  your  sins  are  such,  that  you  need  the 
presence  of  Him  who  "  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world."  Your  wants  are  real,  deeply  felt :  you  need 
a  real  and  deeply-felt  supply.  Your  griefs,  are  real. 
Your  lives  are  not  like  gardens  in  the  tropics,  where 
the  blossom  and  the  fragrance  fail  not;  where  the 
birds  are  all  gayly  feathered,  and  their  flight  like 
the  flash  of  gold  through  the  air :  your  lives  are  like 
gardens  at  the  north,  where  winters  succeed  sum- 
mers in  swift  succession ;  upon  which  the  frost  falls, 
and  withers  every  thing  pleasant ;  into  which  the  bit- 
ing wind  comes,  and  searches  out  every  leaf  of  beau- 
ty, every  trace  of  fragrance,  to  blow  them  all  away  • 
and  your   garden   is   left   unto  you  desolate.     The 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST.  143 

walks  are  frozen,  the  borders  withered,  the  trellises 
leafless,  and  stand  like  skeletons  which  once  were 
clothed  upon  with  life  and  loveliness.  How  often 
have  such  seasons  come  to  you  !  The  world  did  not 
know  it ;  no  one  knew  it  but  God  and  your  own 
soul :  but  more  than  once  since  you  were  born  have  3^ou 
stood  empty-handed  and  alone  on  the  earth ;  when 
you  faced  adversity,  as  a  woman  thinly  clad,  homeless 
and  friendless,  faces,  with  features  from  which  all  the 
warm  blood  has  been  driven,  the  cold  winds  of  the 
north ;  when  you  stood  in  your  houses,  which  were 
like  to  nothing  so  much  as  a  cage  in  which  the  favor- 
ite bird  Ues  dead ;  for  death  had  come  to  the  chamber, 
sudden  and  swift,  and  the  voice  that  was  sweeter 
than  the  voice  of  birds  was  hushed  forever,  and  your 
heart  was  like  to  one  around  whom  all  the  blackness 
and  horror  of  darkness  were  gathered ;  or  when  hell 
concentrated  all  its  pressures  upon  your  soul,  deter- 
mined to  have  it,  and  your  virtue  tottered  and  swayed 
as  a  building  heaved  upon  by  an  earthquake,  and 
every  hope  was  shaken  in  its  place,  and  honesty  and 
honor  and  fidelity  were  upon  the  point  of  coming  down 
in  one  huge  wreck.  Such  seasons,  I  say,  have  come 
to  you,  and  you  have  called  for  help  as  a  man  who 
is  being  murdered  at  night  shouts  for  a  watchman : 
and  God  heard  your  cry,  and  answered  your  prayers ; 
and  out  of  the  darkness  a  voice  sounded,  "  Let  there 
be  light,"  and  light  was  ;  and  to  the  earthquake  he 
said,  ''  Move  no  more,"  and  the  earth  became  steady 
beneath  you,  and  your  virtue,  your  honesty,  your 
honor,   your   fideUty,  stood.     Then   and   there,   my 


144  KNOWLEDGE   OF  CHRIST. 

brother,  you  knew  Christ ;  knew  liim  as  Peter  knew 
him  when  he  was  lifted  from  the  waves  ;  as  the 
penitent  thief  knew  him  on  the  cross ;  as  Lazarus 
knew  him  when  the  voice  of  his  Lord  and  Friend 
startled  him  from  the  slumber  of  death,  and,  clothed 
only  in  the  garments  of  the  grave,  he  came  forth 
from  his  sepulchre. 

You  see  therefore,  friends,  that  to  know  Christ 
with  the  head,  to  know  him  only  as  a  man  who 
once  existed,  but  who  died  and  passed  away  as  all 
mere  men  must,  is  not  to  know  him  as  Paul  prayed 
that  the  Ephesians  might  know  him.  You  must  know 
him  in  your  experiences  of  joy  and  grief,  in  your 
trials  and  heartaches,  in  the  disappointment  of  your 
expectation,  the  failure  of  your  plans,  the  wreck  of 
your  hopes,  in  sickness  and  sorrow  and  death,  if  you 
are  to  know  him  as  he  deserves  to  be  known,  as  he 
longs  to  be  known. 

The  path  which  leads  one  to  a  knowledge  of 
Christ  is  the  same  as  leads  one  to  the  knowledge  of 
any  friend. 

What  is  it  to  know  a  man?  Is  it  to  know  his 
name,  where  he  lives,  what  his  business  is  ?  Do 
you  know  a  man  when  you  know  only  this  ?  Why, 
no,  you  say  :  that  is  not  to  know  a  man.  To  know 
a  man,  you  must  know  what  his  character  is ;  what 
motives,  whether  honest  or  dishonest,  actuate  him. 
I  remember  being  invited  to  see  a  portrait  once.  It 
was  curiously  arranged.  There  was  a  glass  over  it, 
whose  reflecting  power  had  been  partially  taken 
away.     It  was  a  whim  of  the  painter  to  have  it  so 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST.  145 

exhibited.  When  you  entered  the  room,  and  took 
position  before  it,  you  saw  nothing  but  a  dull-look- 
ing mirror,  in  the  centre  of  which  the  eye  could 
barely  discern  the  outlines  of  a  human  face ;  or 
rather,  so  dim  was  it,  it  seemed  only  a  suggestion 
of  a  face.  But,  as  you  gazed,  you  became  gradu- 
ally conscious  that  a  change  was  taking  place.  The 
outlines  grew  stronger,  more  clearly  marked ;  the 
mouth,  nose,  and  eyes  became  dimly  visible.  A 
moment  more,  and  a  face  was  indeed  to  be  seen,  but 
lacking  color  and  expression.  The  features  did  not 
speak.  There  was  no  intelligence  in  the  eye.  But 
in  an  instant  a  soft  tint  began  to  spread  over  it ;  the 
cold  cheek  warmed  into  the  color  of  perfect  cleanli- 
ness and  health ;  the  eye  was  lighted  up ;  the  soft 
golden  hair  seemed  alive  with  the  stirrings  of  wind  ; 
the  lips  stood  apart,  as  if  in  the  act  of  sweet  utter- 
ance ;  and  then  you  knew  that  a  face  of  wonderful 
perfection  as  a  work  of  art  was  before  you. 

Well,  so  it  is  with  our  knowledge  of  men.  We 
do  not  see  them  at  a  glance  ;  they  do  not  reflect 
what  they  really  are  at  once  :  we  do  not  know  them 
at  first ;  we  see  only  the  outlines  of  the  man.  Only 
as  we  watch  him  in  his  motives  and  acts,  only  as 
time  permits  his  real  character  to  become  visible, 
his  soul  in  all  its  movements,  in  every  feature  of  its 
life,  every  shade  of  its  color,  to  beam  out  upon  us, 
do  we  know  a  man.  No  one  knows  who  his  friends 
are  until  it  costs  something  to  be  his  friend.  When 
you  have  to  stand  up  and  defend  a  man  in  the  face 
of  many ;  when  you  have  to  back  him  up  against 


146  KNOWLEDGE   OF  CHRIST. 

odds ;  when  5- ou  have  to  set  your  faith  m  his  integ- 
rity over  against  other  men's  suspicions ;  when  you 
have  to  say  to  falsehood  in  the  majority,  "  You  are 
a  har!" — then,  and  not  till  then,- does  the  man 
really  know  you  as  his  friend. 

I  knew  a  man  two  years  ago  who  lost  his  prop- 
erty. He  was  burnt  clean  out,  as  we  say.  He  had 
been  a  good  man.  He  was  not  a  saint ;  he  was  not 
one  of  your  "  perfection  Christians  ;  "  he  was  simply 
a  good  man  with  faults  :  but  he  was  burnt  out,  I  say, 
and  stood,  at  fifty,  with  not  five  hundred  dollars  in 
the  world.  His  neighbors  and  friends  put  their  *" 
heads  together;  and  they  not  only  put  their  heads 
together,  they  put  then-  hearts  and  pockets  together. 

They  said,  "  Neighbor  A has  been  unfortunate  : 

let  us  help  him  out.  He  has  been  a  good  citizen  ;  he 
has  helped  to  build  up  the  place  :  let  us  take  hold 
and  give  him  a  lift,  and  start  him  again."  They  did. 
They  appointed  a  committee  (you  never  knew  a 
dozen  New-England  men  get  together  who  didn't 
appoint  a  committee).  They  took  up  a  collection : 
one  man  put  down  fifty  dollars,  another  one  hundred, 
one  five  hundi-ed,  one  ten  dollars,  —  each  according 
to  his  ability  ;  and  they  raised  enough  to  start  him  in 
business  again.  Then  they  sent  two  of  their  number 
up  to  his  house  with  the  money.  They  found  him 
in  his  library,  casting  up  accounts.  They  knew,  and 
he  knew,  that,  when  he  was  done,  he  would  find  that 
he  was  not  worth  a  dollar  in  the  world.  Not  one  of 
those  men  could  speak  a  word.  They  laid  the 
bundle  of  bank-bills  down  on  liis  desk,  and  went 


KNOWLEDGE   OP   CHRIST.  147 

away  without  saying  a  syllable.  And  the  man  said 
to  a  friend  the  next  morning,  wliile  his  voice  choked, 
and  great  tears  welled  up  into  his  eyes,  ''  Sir,  I  never 
knew  that  I  had  such  friends  on  the  earth.  I  am 
not  worthy  of  such  love." 

And  it  is  just  so  with  Christ,  my  people.  You 
who  know  him  only  by  name  ;  who  know  him  only 
as  a  being  who  once  lived  on  the  earth,  but  is  now  gone 
from  it ;  you  who  know  him  only  in  the  outline  of 
his  features,  and  not  in  the  glorious  radiance  of  his 
countenance  when  lifted  in  light  upon  you ;  you 
who  do  not  know  him  in  your  motives,  in  your 
trials,  in  all  the  sweet  and  bitter  experiences  of  your 
souls,  —  you  do  not  know  Christ.  Friends,  you  are 
living  in  a  Christian  age  and  land  without  knowing 
your  Saviour.  The  knowledge  into  which  angels  de- 
sire to  look,  and  are  not  able,  solicits  your  attention, 
,  and  you  scarcely  give  it  a  thought !  With  the  mes- 
sage of  salvation  in  your  ears,  with  the  evidences  of 
redeeming  love  in  personal  testimony  before  your 
eyes,  jou  are  of  those,  who,  having  ears  hear  not,  and 
having  eyes  see  not,  the  things  that  concern  their  sal- 
vation. I  marvel  that  natures  which  respond  so 
sensitively  to  the  impulse  of  gratitude  and  duty  in 
the  comparatively  low  things  of  this  life  give  no  re- 
sponse to  those  solicitations  through  which  God  seeks 
to  influence  your  immortal  destiny. 

Have  you  ever,  in  some  quiet  hour,  some  leisure 
moment,  with  no  duty  on  your  hands,  with  nothing 
to  intrude  on  your  pleasant  musing,  found  yourself 
running  over  the  list  of  your  friends,  from  the  dear 


148  KNOWLEDGE   OF   CHKIST. 

mother  that  gave  you  Ufa,  clean  down  to  the  last  ac- 
quaintance you  made,  anal3^zmg  their  characters, 
and  singling  out  the  predominating  characteristic  of 
each  ?  I  have,  often.  Of  one  man  I  have  said,  "  He 
is  the  most  honorable,  high-toned  man  I  ever  met." 
Of  another,  the  man  with  the  most  lively  sense  of  jus- 
tice, "  He  would  not  knowingly  wrong  a  living  being : 
if  he  were  to  die,  and  I  were  to  symbolize  his  character 
and  life  on  marble,  I  would  etch  on  his  tombstone 
nothing  but  a  pair  of  balances  in  exact,  equal  poise ; 
for  that  would  tell  the  gazer  what  sort  of  a  man  he 
was."  Of  another  I  would  find  generosity  the  domi- 
nant trait ;  of  another,  benevolence.  And  so  I  have 
gone  on  making  a  schedule,  as  it  were,  of  their  virtues. 
Now,  3^ou  may  take  any  of  these,  and  you  say  with 
me,  that  no  one  could  really  know  them  until  they 
discovered  the  ruling  impulse,  the  regnant  disposition 
which  held  the  sceptre,  and  ruled  all  the  outgoings  of 
their  lives.  You  must  find  the  key  to  the  cabinet  be- 
fore you  can  look  upon  the  jewels  within.  Until  you 
have  this  perception  of  the  central  impulse  of  a  per- 
son's life,  you  do  not  know  the  person.  And  so  it  is 
precisely  touching  our  knowledge  of  Christ.  You 
must  put  yourself  at  the  right  point  to  behold  a  pic- 
ture or  a  landscape  ;  and  you  must  put  j^ourself  in  the 
right  position  toward  the  Saviour  or  ever  you  can  know 
the  Saviour.  Now,  a  great  many  Christians,  I  fear,  do 
not  know  Christ  as  they  might  know  him,  because  they 
do  not  look  at  him  from  the  right  point  of  view.  They 
do  not  realize  what  the  great  purpose  of  his  life  toward 
them  is.     They  do  not   know  how  strong  he  is,  be- 


KNOWLEDGE   OF   CHRIST.  149 

cause  they  never  lean  on  him  ;  nor  how  sympathetic, 
for  they  never  tell  him  their  troubles;  nor  how  for- 
giving, for  they  never  heartily  trust  his  mercy.  Now, 
if  I  could  only  know  what  conception  you  have  of 
Christ,  if  I  only  knew  how  your  imagination  pictures 
him,  what  sort  of  a  being  in  his  feelings  toward  j^ou 
3^ou  deem  him  to  be,  I  should  be  able  to  say 
whether  or  no  you  knew  him  as  you  ought  to  know 
him,  as  he  longs  to  be  known  by  every  human  heart. 
Take  this  matter  of  going  to  him  in  prayer.  I  fear  a 
great  many  Christians  go  to  God  as  to  one  offended 
at  them  ;  as  one  averse  to  them  ;  as  one  from  whom 
forgiveness,  if  it  comes  at  all,  is  extorted  by  much 
entreaty ;  as  one  whose  sympathies  are  to  be  aroused 
by  cries  and  tears,  tlie  spectacle  of  agony  and  prostra- 
tion. But,  friends,  the  Bible  does  not  present  God  in 
any  such  light  as  that.  Take  the  parable  of  the  prodi- 
gal son,  —  a  parable  spoken  expressly  to  enlighten  us 
as  to  God's  feelings  toward  us,  — and  what  do  we  see  ? 
Is  this  miserable  beggar  who  has  beggared  himself ; 
this  wretch  and  wreck  of  humanity,  who  has  more 
sins  at  his  back  than  days  of  life  ;  who  has  done  what 
not  one  man  in  a  thousand  does ;  who  has  sounded  the 
depths  of  Eastern  vice,  and  dragged  himself  through 
the  whole  slough  of  it ;  whose  sins  have  been  open, 
persistent,  outrageous,  — is  this  enormity  of  ingrati- 
tude, this  marvel  of  sinfulness,  to  be  received  when  he 
drags  the  poor  remnant  of  his  manhood  back  to  his 
old  home  ?  If  there  was  ever  a  beino^  from  whom  God 
might  in  anger  avert  his  face  ;  if  ever  he  might  delay 
the   outgoing  of  his  mercy ;  if  ever  hesitate  in  his 


150  KNOWLEDGE   OF   CUEIST. 

mind,  in  doubt  where  the  line  between  justice  and 
mercy  might  be  drawn,  —  surely  it  Avas  in  the  case  of 
this  ruined  viigabond.  The  prodigal  felt  this  himself. 
He  felt  that  there  was  no  hope  for  him,  no  chance 
of  restoration.  His  expectation,  his  dream,  was,  not 
that  his  father  would  ever  receive  him  back  to  his 
love  :  his  ambition  was,  to  be  only  one  among  his  ser- 
vants, —  a  poor  unnoticed,  unloved  hireling.  But, 
friends,  you  know  the  story.  Bo  you  believe  it?  Do 
you  believe  that  God  does  leave  his  house?  does 
run  to  meet  him  ?  does  actually  put  his  arms  around 
the  poor  sinner's  neck?  Do  the  tears  of  a  divine 
compassion,  the  tears  of  a  great  and  holy  joy,  fall  on 
the  face  of  a  poor  wretch  before  he  has  even  had  tijne 
to  my  a  luord?  When  you  have  sinned,  when  your 
conscience  condemns  you,  when  you  know  and  feel 
that  you  have  sinned  against  Heaven  and  in  his  sight, 
and,  falling  on  your  knees,  you  go  to  God  in  prayer, 
do  5^ou  begin  to  pray  as  if  you  had  a  great  task  of 
persuasion  to  perform  ?  as  if  you  must  make  a  picture 
of  wretchedness  of  yourself  to  waken  God's  pity? 
as  if  he  had  a  memory  only  for  your  offences,  and  pity 
had  set  his  heart  against  you,  and  you  must  propitiate 
him,  and  by  much  entreaty  prevail  upon  him  to  restore 
you  to  your  former  rank  and  standing  in  his  favor  ? 
Is  that  your  view  of  God  ?  Is  that  the  picture  your 
imagination  paints  ?  Well,  it  is  not  mine.  May  the 
Spirit  of  God  be  praised  forever  by  my  lips,  that  he 
has  made  me  able  to  see  God  in  another  light,  —  even 
as  Jesus  himself  saw  him  when  he  described  him  to  us 
in  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son !     Ah,  friends  !  I 


KNOWLEDGE   OF  CHEIST.  151 

fear  you  never  will  know  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  because  you  will  not  believe.  You  continue  to 
make  God  like  to  ^^ourselves  ;  to  think  that  he  can  for- 
give only  as  you  forgive,  or  love  only  as  you  love. 
His  love  is  so  great,  that  it  is  incredible  to  you.  You 
feel  that  there  must  be  a  mistake  about  it.  You  fear 
of  making  forgiveness  too  easy.  You  cannot  believe 
that  God  loves  like  thaL  But,  friends,  he  does  love 
like  that;  for  the  Gospels  say  that  he  does.  He  loves 
every  one  of  you  like  that,  whether  you  believe  it  or 
not.  He  loves  every  poor,  sinful  man  like  that.  Do 
not  think  this  love  too  great:  no  less  love  could 
have  given  birth  to  the  atonement.  It  was  because 
God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begot- 
ten Son,  that  those  who  believed  in  him  might  not 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life. 

And  now,  friends,  I  say,  if  there  is  a  man  here  who 
wishes  to  be  taken  into  God's  favor  to-day ;  who  is 
tired  of  his  sins  ;  whose  judgment  says,  as  he  looks  at 
his  past  course  of  life,  "  This  thing  must  stop  ;  I  will 
eat  no  longer  with  swine  ;  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my 
Father's  house,"  —  I  tell  you,  my  friends,  the  God  of 
mercy  has  gone  out  to  meet  that  soul ;  and,  if  his  arms 
were  ever  around  any  man's  neck,  they  are  around  that 
man's  neck  at  this  moment.  I  believe  in  original  sin  ; 
I  believe  in  depravity  :  but,  beyond  all  these  things,  I 
believe  in  God's  love  for  man.  Perish  all  other  arti- 
cles ;  yet,  keeping  this,  my  creed  shall  be  abundant. 
This  faith,  full-orbed,  resplendent,  with  healing  on  its 
beams,  shall  ride  the  heaven  of  my  hope.  No  night 
shall  darken  while  it  sails  above  me,  no  clouds  en- 


152  KNOWLEDGE   O^   CHRIST. 

dure  the  fervency  of  its  career.  It  shall  roll  on,  the 
cause  and  centre  of  radiations  that  penetrate  through 
the  entire  atmosphere  of  my  existence.  *  My  life  shall 
be  its  orbit.  It  shall  revolve  forever  around  the  soul 
that  it  illuminates,  and  shine  the  brightest  when 
about  to  pass  with  me  from  this  into  another  realm. 

0  friends  !  if  our  faith  in  God's  love  for  us  in  Jesus 
was  like  to  what  some  men's  faith  is  in  the  doctrine 
of  election  or  depravity  or  inability,  the  divine  na- 
ture would  be  to  us  what  the  mother's  bosom  is  to 
the  babe,  —  the  source  of  all  our  nourishment,  the 
warm  pillow  of  our  peaceful  sleep. 

I  do  not  think  of  Jesus  as  I  used  to  think  of  him. 
My  views  of  him  have  changed,  nay,  are  changing, 
with  the  changes  of  growth.  Once,  touching  his 
divine  nature,  he  was  a  myster}^  The  union  of  the 
divine  with  the  human,  the  infinite  with  the  finite, 
quickened  thought  indeed,  started  speculation,  winged 
the  imagination,  until  it  flew  so  far  that  it  became 
bewildered,  and  was  lost  amid  the  mazes  and  circles 
of  its  own  flight ;  and,  unable  to  support  itself  in  the 
thin  atmosphere  to  which  it  mounted,  it  fell  at  last 
tumbling  to  the  earth,  no  better  for  its  effort.  Even 
as  a  man  I  did  not  understand  him  :  he  was  as  one 
not  to  be  understood.  I  admired  him,  but  did  not  love 
him.     I   could   not   bring   him   down   to   my   level. 

1  was  a  peasant,  he  a  king.  Look  at  him  as  I  might, 
he  was  my  God,  and  not  my  brother.  He  was  not  one 
half  so  much  my  friend  as  many  of  you  are  to-da}^  — 
one  who  would  watch  over  me  if  I  were  sick,  counsel 
with  me  when  I  am  perplexed,  and  support  me  in  all 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST.  153 

the  ups  and  downs  of  life.  And,  when  I  read  that  I 
was  heir  and  joint-heir  with  him  of  heavenly  glory, 
the  words  did  not  take  hold  of  me :  I  do  not  think 
that  I  believed  them.  But,  my  friends,  all  this  is 
changed  ;  at  least,  it  is  changing.  I  am  not  perfect  in 
faith  yet,  but  more  trustful  than  I  once  was.  I  know 
that  I  am  not  perfect  in  love  yet ;  but,  nevertheless, 
fear  has  been  cast  out  of  me.  I  have  not  attained  as 
yet,  I  have  not  reached,  the  city  ;  but  I  feel  that  my 
feet  are  in  the  road,  and  that  I  am  moving  on  to  a  full, 
clear,  sweet  knowledge  of  God's  love  in  Christ.  The 
city  is  hidden  yet ;  but  ahead  of  me,  and  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hill  that  I  am  climbing,  on  the  crest  of 
which  my  grave  lies  (I  do  not  like  to  hear  people  talk  of 
going  down  to  their  graves :  Christians  do  not  go  down^ 
they  go  up^  to  their  graves),  —  on  the  other  side  of  the 
hill  I  am  climbing,  on  the  crest  of  which  my  grave  lies, 
I  say,  I  hear  the  bells  of  the  city  ringing :  for  heaven 
has  its  triumphs  continually  ;  its  victories  never  cease, 
and  its  bells  are  never  silent.  And  the  bells  keep  on 
ringing :  their  melody,  swelling  in  clearness  and  vol- 
ume as  I  advance,  sounds  forever  in  my  ears.  They  ring 
in  sympathy.  When  I  weep,  they  swing  more  slowly ; 
not  like  our  funeral-bells,  but  as  if  God  had  hushed 
them  to  a  softer  tone.  When  I  laugh,  they  ring  a 
livelier  movement.  It  seems  as  if  my  own  brother^ s 
hand  governed  the  chimes.  And  so  he  does,  good 
friends,  —  even  Christ  the  Lord,  who  seems  no  longer 
as  a  King,  as  Lord,  as  Master,  but  as  my  own  dear, 
elder  brother, 

7* 


154  KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST. 

My  friends,  I  have  preached  this  sermon  to  you 
because  I  beUeved  that  it  expressed  the  prevailing 
spirit  of  New-England  theology  as  it  is  being 
preached  in  her  churches  to-day.  The  old  warfares 
are  past :  the  noise  of  their  contentions  is  hushed. 
The  bitter  speech,  the  logic  that  ignored  charity,  the 
sjDirit  that  begat  persecution,  the  mistaken  zeal  that 
banished  the  Baptist  and  scourged  the  Quaker,  denun- 
ciation and  anathema,  —  these  no  longer  find  expres- 
sion from  her  pulpits.  The  fighters  sleep,  and  the  bit- 
terness that  entered  into  those  contests  between  breth- 
ren is  covered  by  the  grass  that  grows  on  graves. 
Nevermore  may  such  battle  be  joined!  Let  the 
grave,  I  say,  have  its  triumph.  Christianity  will  not 
be  the  loser.  Peace  will  never  be  born  out  of  con- 
tention. The  creed  of  the  evangelical  churches  is 
better  than  the  practice  of  evangelical  Christians. 
Our  heads  are  nearer  the  truth  than  our  hearts ;  we 
are  better  theologians  than  we  are  disciples.  What, 
then,  is  the  great  need  of  the  hour  ?  Is  it  more 
knowledge  ?  No.  "  Who  by  searching  can  find  out 
God  ?  "  Do  we  need  in  our  churches  more  forms,  more 
definitions,  more  creeds  ?  No,  again.  The  harp  has 
its  full  allotment  of  strings.  It  is  perfect ;  and  yet 
we  wait  in  vain  for  the  music.  It  is  dumb :  what 
it  needs  is  the  living  player,  —  a  white  hand  to  sweep 
it,  and  fingers  of  skill  to  move  over  the  strings.  So  it 
is  with  us.  Our  knowledge  is  ample.  We  appre- 
hend fully  the  way  of  salvation.  What  we  need  is 
the  Spirit  of  God  in  our  hearts ;   the  divine  touch 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST  155 

that  shall  thrill  us,  and  wake  every  faculty  to  melodi- 
ous action.  We  need  a  stronger,  deeper,  warmer 
love  for  man  as  a  lost  sinner,  —  a  love  which  shall 
disquiet  us  by  day,  haunt  us  by  night,  and  give  us  no 
rest  until  we  have  saved  some  one. 

Oh  that  such  a  love  might  come  to  us  in  perfect 
measure  to-day  ;  and  not  alone  to  us,  but  also  unto  all 
the  churches ;  yea,  and  unto  all  mankind  ! 

And  now,  my  people,  how  are  we  to  best  commu- 
nicate this  sympathetic,  love-fostering  heart-knowl- 
edge of  Christ  to  the  world  ?  How  can  we  interpret 
the  Saviour,  not  intellectually,  but  emotionally,  to 
men  ?  They  do  not  understand  this  matter  of  reli- 
gion in  its  spiritual  and  spiritualizing  characteristics. 
They  associate  it  —  perhaps  we  have  taught  them  to 
do  so  —  with  certain  forms  of  words,  with  deductions 
of  men's  intellect,  and  of  men,  too,  who  lived  centu- 
ries back,  with  a  certain  machinery  of  administration 
distasteful  to  them,  and  a  mannerism  of  expression, 
which,  it  must  be  admitted,  is  not  always  above  the 
censure  of  a  just  criticism :  and  the  result  is,  they  look 
upon  religion  as  something  to  accept  or  reject  just  as 
they  please  ;  whereas  the  religion  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment can  no  more  be  rejected  by  a  person  who  under- 
stands its  spiritual  adaptations  than  a  loaf  of  sweet 
bread  can  be  rejected  by  a  man  pressed  with  hunger. 
It  is  adapted  to  him.  It  exactly  meets  his  wants. 
It  is  just  what  he  needs.  And  so  it  is  with  religion, 
friends.   There  is  not  a  man  or  woman  of  aU  you  whc 


156  KNOWLEDGE   OF  CHRIST. 

are  here  —  I  care  not  how  grave  or  gay,  how  rich  or 
poor,  you  may  be  —  that  does  not  need  those  motives 
and  impulses,  those  hopes  and  incitements,  that  are 
found  only  in  the  practice  of  the  Christian  religion. 

How  to  make  men  understand  and  feel  this  is  the 
great  question  for  the  Church  to  solve.  This  is  the 
problem  that  stands  at  the  foot  of  every  pulpit,  looking 
steadily  and  wistfully  up  into  the  preacher's  face.  It 
stands  at  every  pew-door,  with  its  hand  on  the  clasp, 
saying,  "  Let  me  in  !  "  It  stands  knocking  at  the  door 
of  every  Christian  heart,  saying,  "  Open,  that  the 
world  may  see  what  a  palace  of  hope  there  is 
within  ! " 

For  one,  I  am  growing  to  feel,  that,  if  we  would 
make  men  trust  Christ,  we  must  trust  him  more  our- 
selves. Our  love,  our  hope,  our  joy,  our  faith,  must 
be  more  perceptible  to  men  or  ever  they  will  search 
for  the  cause.  And  who  ever  began  to  search  for  the 
cause  of  Christian  hopefulness,  and  did  not  finally 
embrace  it  ?  Hence  it  is,  that  in  my  walk  and  con- 
versation as  a  private  man,  and  in  my  utterances  as  a 
pubhc  teacher,  I  strive  to  make  the  healthy  and 
happy  and  vigorous  in  religion  seen.  I  wish  that  the 
despondent  and  tempted  and  fallen  of  my  age  may 
see  how  buoyant  and  hopeful  and  blessed  Chris- 
tianity is.  The  beacon  is  not  for  me  alone  ;  it  shines 
for  every  soul  that  sails  the  sea  I  sail,  —  for  every 
tossed  and  buffeted  one,  and  for  all  who  are  heaved 
upon  violently :  and  never  are  its  beams  so  bright, 
never  are  they  shot  forth  so  far,  as  when  the  sky  is 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  CHRIST.  157 

overcast,  and  the  shore  whitest  with  peril.  When  the 
heavens  are  black,  the  sea  white,  and  the  shore  one 
voice  of  thunder,  then  it  is  that  religion  stands  like 
some  granite  shaft  that  is  built  on  an  immovable 
rock,  and  whose  crest  is  luminous  with  a  steady  and 
an  inextinguishable  light ;  then  it  is  that  the  Saviour 
becomes  a  Saviour  indeed,  and  we  know  that  love 
which  passeth  knowledge. 


SABBATH  MORKma,  DEC.  3,  1871. 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.-DIVINE  GOVERNMENT. 

"THr    THRONE    IS    ESTABLISHED    OF   OLD."  —  Ps.  XCiii.  2. 

A  THRONE  is  the  symbol  of  government:  it  is 
the  expression  of  authority,  and  the  seat  of 
power.  When  the  Psalmist  declares  of  God  that  "  his 
throne  is  established  of  old,"  it  is  the  same  as  if  he 
had  said,  that  God,  from  all  time,  is  the  head  of  a 
government ;  has  power,  dominion,  and  sovereignty. 
I  am  to  speak  to-day  of  this  subject,  —  the  subject  of 
divine  government ;  of  its  necessity,  use,  and  modes 
of  manifestation. 

The  world  is  very  willing  to  forget  that  God  is  a 
Governor ;  that  he  has  a  throne,  exercises  authority, 
and  executes  laws.  There  is  much  said,  even  in  cer- 
tain pulpits,  calculated  to  confuse  the  public  mind 
touching  the  character  of  this  government.  God  is 
misrepresented,  and  made  to  appear  harsh  and  unlove- 
ly, and  his  authority,  when  exercised,  as  the  exhibi- 
tion of  malevolent  affection ;  and  not  a  little  capital 
is  made,  by  those  who  oppose  evangelical  religion,  by 
this  process. 

158 


DIVINE  GOVERNMENT.  159 

But  observe  how  palpable  is  the  error  in  such 
views  of  divine  government.  Why,  what  is  the 
greatest  as  it  is  the  clearest-bought  boon  of  our  race  ? 
What  is  that  to  obtain  which  people  most  willingly 
lavish  their  treasure,  and  shed  their  blood  ?  What  is 
that  most  precious  result  of  the  world's  best  growth, 
whose  presence  includes  all  other  blessings,  whose 
absence  is  the  synonyme  of  every  disorder  and  curse  ? 
Is  it  not  good  government  ?  Is  it  not  for  this  that  all 
the  people  of  the  world  who  are  sufficiently  enlight- 
ened to  appreciate  what  is  desirable  are  to-day  striv- 
ing ?  For  this  one  result  the  race  for  these  centuries 
have  been  struggling.  For  this  the  statesman  plans, 
the  publicist  writes,  the  poet  sings,  and  the  patriot 
dies.  Ask  those  three  hundred  thousand  graves 
which  dot  our  land  ;  lower  your  lips  to  the  mounds 
beneath  which  the  nation's  heroes  slain  in  battle  sleep, 
and  ask  the  sacred  dust  beneath  the  cause  and  reason 
of  their  death ;  and  out  of  the  silence  of  those  graves, 
and  from  the  lips  of  the  dumb,  will  come  this  answer: 
"  We  died  that  liberty  might  not  perish,  or  good  gov- 
ernment be  lost  to  this  continent."  What  does  gov- 
ernment mean  ?  It  means  stability ;  it  means  prog- 
ress in  every  good  order  of  growth ;  it  means 
material  prosperity  ;  it  means  peace.  Like  that  mar- 
vellous tree  of  the  tropics,  its  leaves  clothe,  its  fruit 
feeds,  and  under  its  shadows  the  nations  of  the 
earth  repose.  If  you  call  for  further  evidence,  I  point 
to  your  schoolhouses  and  churches,  —  blessings  un- 
known to  anarchy.  Enumerate  the  number  and  mag- 
nificence of   your  cities,   your  fields  that  feed  the 


160  DIVINE  GOVEENMENT. 

world,  and  yoiir  ships  that  whiten  the  sea  with  your 
sails.  What  has  advertised  America  throughout  the 
globe  ?  What  has  sent  your  fame  to  every  tribe  of 
the  desert,  and  lifted  your  name  before  the  eyes 
of  the  world  as  a  white  banner,  on  whose. snowy  folds 
the  anchor  and  the  dove  are  wrought,  —  symbols  of 
hope  and  peace,  —  but  the  reputation  of  your  govern- 
ment ?  Here  is  liberty  for  which  centuries  have 
sighed.  Here  property  and  life  are  respected ;  here 
conscience  is  free,  and  education  to  be  had  for  the 
asking.  This,  friends,  is  what  you  owe  to  govern- 
ment ;  and,  owing  this,  when  the  government  was  im- 
perilled it  became  to  us  all  a  duty  and  a  joy  to  give 
and  die  that  the  majestic  structure  over  our  heads 
might  not  fall,  involving  us  in  common  ruin. 

But,  my  friends,  if  such  is  the  value  of  good  gov- 
ernment to  the  earth  (and  that  I  have  not  exagger- 
ated it  you  can  judge),  what  must  be  the  value  of  it 
to  heaven  ?  If  its  presence  and  protection  is  needed 
to  inspire  and  protect  the  inhabitants  of  our  little 
globe,  who  can  express  the  need  of  its  presence  and 
protection  among  the  vast  populations  which  people 
the  universe  of  God  ?  And,  if  its  absence  is  disas- 
trous here,  what  dire  confusion  and  irretrievable 
disorder  would  result  from  its  absence  there !  Nay, 
more :  if  personal  suffering  and  death  are  not  to  be 
weighed  in  the  balance  over  against  the  public  good  as 
expressed  by  human  necessities,  what  suffering  to  man 
should  interfere  with  the  preservation  of  law  and 
order  throughout  the  domains  of  that  vast  republic 
of  which  God  is  president  and  head  ?     My  hearers, 


DIVINE  GOVERNMENT.  161 

fix  in  your  minds  to-day,  and  let  the  thought  lie  em- 
bedded in  your  memories  forever,  that  the  pillars 
which  uphold  the  structure  of  universal  security 
must  never  be  shaken.  No  trifling  with  the  founda- 
tion upon  which  the  hope  of  the  universe  rests! 
Races  before  the  eye  of  God,  as  armies  before  the 
eyes  of  men,  may  be  swept  away;  over  the  grave 
of  many  an  order  and  rank  heaven  may  gaze  :  but 
above  all  these  considerations  remain  forever  and  un- 
changeable the  purpose  and  necessity  of  God,  —  gov- 
ernment. All  else  may  topple  and  fall ;  but  this  shaft 
of  central  authority  must  remain.  The  stars  may 
fade,  and  fail  in  their  courses  ;  but  the  sun  itself  must 
abide  forever  at  fullest  orb,  forever  performing,  as  it 
revolves  in  its  circuit,  its  ministrations  to  all. 

Now,  I  submit  to  your  candor  to  say  whether  there 
can  be  any  correct  theology  or  theological  argument 
from  which  this  matter  of  divine  government  is 
excluded,  or  in  which  it  is  allowed  little  prominence. 
Can  there  be  any  adequate  discussion  of  any  prin- 
ciple or  practice  touching  rights  before  the  law, 
unless  the  existence  of  law,  and  its  supreme  right  to 
maintain  itself,  is  first  cordially  acknowledged  ?  All 
of  you  say  at  once,  "  Certainly  not."  Without  gov- 
ernment, there  would  be  no  rights  or  privileges  to 
discuss.  From  it,  as  branches  out  of  the  trunk,  all 
these  proceed.  Its  existence  is  the  source  and  guar- 
anty of  eYery  thing  valuable.  Indeed,  might  we 
not  say,  and  say  truly,  that  theology  is  but  an  inves- 
tigation into  that  government,  and  the  ways  and 
methods  in   which   its   principles    are  expressed  in 


162  .  DIVINE  GOVERNMENT. 

daily  and  practical  administration?  He  who  even 
prays  or  sings  to  God,  without  conceiving  of  and  ad- 
dressing him  as  the  head  of  a  government,  prays 
and  sings  to  no  purpose.  The  very  essence  of  a 
petition  is,  that  it  is  the  cry  of  a  lower  to  a  higher,  — 
the  ruled  to  the  ruler ;  and  the  harmonies  that 
swell  in  circles  of  song  around  the  footstool  are 
significant,  because  sounded  in  praise  of  Him  who  is 
"  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords." 

But  will  that  one  in  this  audience  to-day,  who  is 
most  interested  in  this  presentation  of  truth  because 
he  has  seldom  if  ever  heard  it  preached,  tell  me  if 
there  can  be  any  government  without  law  ;  and  how 
law  can  be  law,  and  not  pronounce  penalties ;  and 
how  penalty  can  ever  be  expressed  through  any 
other  medium  than  punishment?  As  that  penalty, 
no  matter  what,  pronounced  by  the  law,  is  uninflicted, 
the  law  itself  is  disregarded  and  dishonored  ;  and 
by  so  much  as  its  existence  and  enforcement  were 
helpful  of  government,  by  so  much  is  that  govern- 
ment weakened  and  endangered.  No  reasoning  can 
be  safer  or  surer  than  this ;  no  conclusion,  no  matter 
to  what  it  may  lead,  more  indisputable,  and  beyond 
question. 

Now,  let  us  take  one  step  farther,  and  inquire, 
What  is  the  first  aim  and  instinct  of  government 
when  attacked  ?  Get  the  idea  well  in  mind.  When 
a  government  finds  itself  in  the  presence  of  enmity 
and  revolt ;  when  the  ground  begins  to  heave  and 
tremble  under  its  feet,  and  all  its  honor,  all  its  glory, 
all  the  good  it  signifies  for  man,  yea,  and  its  very 


DIVINE  GOVEENMENT.  1G3 

existence  itself,  are  in  jeopardy,  —  what,  I  say,  is  the 
first  thought,  the  first  instinct,  of  that  government  ? 
Why,  pause  a  moment,  and  reflect.  I  am  speaking 
to  an  American  audience,  and  in  a  city  where  patriot- 
ism is  hereditary :  I  am  speaking  in  a  State  whose 
high  honor  it  is  to  have  shed  the  first  blood  to  estab- 
lish and  the  first  blood  to  perpetuate  the  government 
of  our  country.  You  remember  the  spring  of  1861, 
the  fall  of  Sumter,  the  19th  of  April,  and  the  blood 
which  Massachusetts  poured  out  as  a  libation  to 
liberty  upon  the  stones  at  Baltimore,  when  the  noble 
Sixth  marched  through  that  city  toward  the  capital, 
—  you  recall,  I  say,  the  excitement,  the  alarm,  the 
anxiety,  of  those  days,  when  men  feared  that  liberty 
was  passing  away,  and  the  government  which  had 
fostered  us  so  long  and  well  was  about  to  perish  from 
the  face  of  the  earth.  Well,  what  was  the  first 
thought  of  tlie  government  and  the  loyal  people  in 
that  hour  of  peril  ?  What  was  the  one  instinctive 
cry  that  leaped  to  every  lip  ?  It  was  this :  "  Pre- 
serve the  government !  "  "  Without  a  government 
we  are  nothing,"  said  all.  "  Right  or  wrong  touch- 
ing this  matter  of  slavery,  the  government  must 
stand."  "  What  is  money  without  a  government  ?  " 
exclaimed  Wall  Street ;  and,  opening  her  coffers,  she 
said  to  the  government,  "  Take  and  use  :  only  defend 
yourself."  "  What  is  knowledge  without  a  coun- 
try ?  "  echoed  the  student ;  and,  dashing  his  "  Horace  " 
to  the  floor,  he  shouldered  a  musket.  "  What  are 
lands  and  home  and  children  without  liberty  ?  "  cried 
the  farmer ;  and,  leaving  the  plough  to  rust  in  the 


164  DIVINE  GOVERNMENT. 

furrow,  he  started  for  tlie  capital.  In  an  hour  the 
American  people  awoke  from  their  trance  of  indiffer- 
ence, and  saw,  as  a  man  sees  a  mountain  illuminated 
by  lightning  at  midnight,  the  relation  of  government 
to  liberty,  wealth,  and  whatever  is  most  precious  to 
the  race  ;  and  the  first  instinct  of  government,  which, 
as  with  the  individual,  is  self-preservation,  found 
expression  in  the  loyalty  of  the  hour. 

Through  this  illustration  which  our  own  recent 
history  so  aptly  furnislies  I  am  able  to  answer  the 
question,  "  What  is  the  first  aim  of  government  as 
against  rebellion  ?  "  It  is  to  perpetuate  itself.  Let 
a  government  be  attacked,  let  alienations  between 
sections  spring  up,  let  hostile  combinations  be  formed, 
and  its  first  instinct,  its  first  thought,  is  not  mercy, 
is  not  forgiveness,  toward  those  in  revolt,  but  defence 
and  perpetuation  of  itself.  The  sword,  and  not  the 
branch,  is  the  symbol  through  which  that  government 
gives  expression  to  its  own  subjects  and  before  the 
world  of  its  nature  and  determination :  and  the 
purer  that  government,  the  wider  its  influence  for 
good,  the  greater  and  more  needed  the  protection  to 
the  good  it  extends,  the  stronger  is  its  determination 
to  strike ;  the  more  like  a  statue  of  inspired  granite 
does  it  become  over  ao^ainst  such  as  would  assault  it 
to  its  overthrow. 

Allow  me  to  inquire  if  this  principle,  this  law  of 
preservation,  does  not  extend  to  all  kinds  of  govern- 
ment, divine  as  well  as  human,  and  as  endangered 
by  all  manner  of  rebellion,  spiritual  as  truly  as  physi- 
cal ;   and,  if   so,  who  shall  put  a  hmit  to  that  de- 


DIVINE  GOVERNMENT.  165 

fence  against  devils  and  wicked  men  which  the  gov- 
ernment of  God  shall  feel  itself  called  upon  to  wage 
for  its  security  and  continued  existence  ? 

But,  friends,  is  there  not  one  other  consideration 
which  a  government,  when  attacked,  must  never 
ignore  ?  The  first,  as  we  have  said,  is  self-preserva- 
tion :  the  second  is  vindication.  It  must  not  merely 
continue ;  it  must  continue  with  honor :  it  must 
stand  an  object  of  admiration  to  its  friends,  and  of 
fear  to  its  foes. 

The  latter  duty  is,  indeed,  co-existent  with  the  for- 
mer; for,  in  order  to  be  permanent,  a  government 
must  be  honored.  The  true  basis  of  authority  is  not 
physical  force.  The  police  regulations  of  your  city, 
by  which  life  and  property  are  protected,  do  not 
maintain  and  uphold  law  :  there  is,  lying  back  and 
underneath  all  these,  a  public  sentiment,  a  public 
opinion,  without  which  your  municipal  courts  would 
be  in  vain.  This  respect,  on  the  part  of  its  subjects, 
a  government  must  be  strong  and  honored  enough  to 
command.  It  must  be  able  to  defend  and  vindicate 
itself  from  all  insult  and  hostile  intrusion.  Thus 
constituted,  and  thus  alone,  does  it  have  in  it  the 
elements  of  endurance.  Generations  pass ;  but  it 
abides.  Centuries  serve  only  to  render  it  more  sta- 
ble. The  fathers  fall  on  sleep ;  but  the  children 
continue  to  reverence  and  love  what  they  founded. 
But  if  a  government  lack  this  power  to  command 
the  respect  of  its  subjects,  this  ability  to  vindicate  its 
honor  when  insulted,  who  can  predict  stability  to 
it  ?     What  is  more  pitiable  than  a  weak,  nerveless, 


1G6  DIVINE  GOVEKNMENT. 

cowardly  government,  irresolute  in  its  purpose,  halt- 
ing in  its  performance,  supplicatory  in  its  posture  ? 
While  patriots  blush  in  very  shame,  the  insolent  de- 
ride and  defy  it.  We  have  had  such  a  nerveless, 
cowardly,  and  weak  government  in  our  day,  in  this 
country ;  and  the  last  three  months  of  President 
Buchanan's  administration  were  as  corrupt  and 
shameful  as  men  ever  blushed  for.  No  wonder  that 
Europe,  in  view  of  what  it  saw  at  Washington 
in  the  winter  of  1860,  proclaimed  that  the  Great  Re- 
public was  breaking  up.  Europe  had  seen  those 
symptoms  of  dissolution  before,  and  knew  what 
they  meant.  They  were  right:  the  republic  was 
breaking  up :  half  the  stones  in  the  majestic  struc- 
ture were  sliding  from  their  places.  For  three 
months  we  had  no  government.  There  was  no  pilot 
at  the  helm.  There  was  a  mob,  and  a  cowardly, 
brutal  mob  at  that ;  and  that  was  all  the  government 
we  had,  until  Massachusetts,  girded  for  war,  with  the 
old  battle-light  in  her  face,  had  gone  through  Balti- 
more, leaving  on  the  stones  of  its  streets  the  marks 
of  her  footprints  in  blood. 

Continue  the  illustration  previously  used.  Suppose 
our  government  had  not  vindicated  itself,  had  not 
summoned  armies  into  the  field,  and  appealed  to  the 
sharp  cruelty  of  the  sword  to  assert  its  right,  where 
should  we  have  been  to-day  ?  Where  would  have 
been  the  government,  where  liberty,  where  the  hope 
of  the  world  ?  These  ivould  not  have  been.  A  crisis 
had  been  reached.  The  temple  was  opposed  to  a 
pressure  it  might  not  resist.     The  old  mortar  of  the 


DIVINE   GOVERNMENT.  1G7 

Revolution  must  be  remoistened  with  fresh  blood,  and 
the  arches  of  constitutional  liberty  reset,  and  more 
stoutly  braced.  The  necessity  was  accepted,  —  ac- 
cepted, too,  in  the  interest,  not  of  revenge,  not  of 
hardness  of  heart,  not  of  cruelt}^,  but  in  the  interest 
of  justice,  of  liberty,  and  the  greatest  good  of  the 
greatest  number.  And  to-day,  owing  to  this  vindi- 
cation of  itself,  which  necessarily  implied  punishment 
to  many,  and  suffering  to  all,  the  republic  stands  like 
a  pillar  of  fire  before  those  nations  of  the  earth 
which  are  journeying  by  circuitous  routes  from  op- 
pression toward  some  happier  state  and  fortune. 
The  government  has  vindicated  itself,  and  is  as  an 
asylum  whose  doors  are  never  shut  to  the  distressed 
of  the  world. 

But,  my  friends,  if  such  is  the  supreme  right  and 
duty  of  a  government  to  perpetuate  and  vindicate 
itself,  if  such  is  the  necessity  of  government  on 
earth,  what  words  can  express  the  necessity  of  a 
divine  government  in  the  universe,  and  the  right  and 
duty  of  God,  its  head,  to  perpetuate  and  vindicate  it  ? 
But  how,  pray,  does  a  government  vindicate  itself? 
Does  it  vindicate  itself  when  it  winks  at  deeds  cal- 
culated to  overthrow  it  ?  when  it  connives  at  plots 
which  have  for  their  object  its  destruction  ?  when,  out 
of  weak  pity  and  maudlin  sentimentahsm,  it  with- 
holds deserved  punishment  from  those  who  take  from 
forgiveness  a  larger  license  to  sin  ?  Is  that  the  way 
for  a  government,  human  or  divine,  to  defend  itself  ? 
No  orator  dare  claim  it  before  an  audience  unconfused 
by  irrelevant  considerations.     Deeper   than    reason, 


168  DIVINE  GOVERNMENT. 

deeper  than  education,  in  the  human  heart,  is  the 
instinct  and  acknowledgment  of  justice.  In  every 
generous,  order-loving  man  is  a  principle  which 
prompts  him  to  admire  any  exhibition  of  strength  put 
forth  in  defence  of  rights  and  institutions  essential  and 
salutary  to  man.  Hence  it  is  that  all  attempts  to  emas- 
culate a  people's  idea  of  God  have  ever  failed  :  whether 
his  name  has  been  Jupiter  or  Thor  or  Jehovah,  it  has 
ever  been  the  symbol  of  power,  of  majesty,  of  om- 
nipotent might.  Whether,  as  with  the  prophet,  the 
human  mind  was  taught  to  conceive  of  him  as  one 
"  who  inhabiteth  eternity,"  whose  "  throne  is  from 
generation  to  generation,  and  endureth  forever,"  or, 
as  pictured  in  classic  song,  at  the  head  of  a  feast, 
surrounded  by  drunken  gods  and  goddesses,  —  how- 
ever seen,  through  whatever  debasing  medium,  he 
invariably  appeared  as  a  ruler  and  a  king.  It  has 
been  left  for  some  visionists  of  our  day  to  paint  him 
with  the  bolt  dropped  from  his  nerveless  hand,  the 
august  majesty  of  his  bearing  gone,  and  all  the  terror 
of  his  might  departed.  Heaven,  to  them,  is  not  a 
country  peopled  with  well-ordered,  and  therefore 
happy  masses,  but  a  land  inhabited  by  an  amiable 
mob  ;  and  God  himself,  instead  of  being  the  head 
of  a  government,  the  executive  of  divine  legislation, 
a  weak  collection  of  harmless  and  fatherly  impulses  ; 
a  mild,  benevolent  being,  too  gentle  to  oppose,  and 
too  weak  to  attempt  to  punish,  the  wicked.  To  this 
somewhat  fashionable  idea  of  God  the  idea  of  a 
divine  government  is  opposed ;  for  government  means 
law,  and    law  means  penalty   and    punishment   to 


DIVIXE  GOVEHNMENT.  169 

all  who  disobey.  And  if  heftven  is  the  seat  of  a 
government,  a  government  which  in  its  moral  appli- 
cation rules  over  us  all,  then  it  is  not  the  home  of 
amiable  chaos,  an  harmonious  Babel,  a  mild  and  be- 
nevolent anarchy. 

If  there  were  any  need  to  show  the  necessity  of  a 
strong  government  at  the  head  of  universal  affairs,  it 
might  be  found  in  this  thought,  that  the  subjects  of 
this  government  are  divided  into  two  widely-different 
classes  of  beings,  —  the  good  and  the  evil,  the  obedient 
and  the  rebellious.  The  whole  universe,  if  I  might 
so  express  it,  is  exposed  on  all  sides  to  the  intrusion  of 
the  powers  of  evil,  formidable  in  numbers,  and  bitterly 
hostile  in  spuit ;  and  nothing  save  the  government  of 
God  stands  between  them  and  the  consummation  of 
their  evil  intentions.  This  is  our  shield  and  buckler, 
this  our  strong  tower  of  defence,  our  present  help  in 
time  of  trouble.  This  it  is  that  speaks,  and  the  tides 
of  evil  know  their  bounds.  Hell,  which  had  rolled  its 
billows  up  as  if  to  ingulf  us,  hears  the  voice  of 
omnipotent  command,  and  melts  with  sudden  lapse 
to  fiery  foam.  If,  my  friends,  I  seek  to  elevate  the 
idea  of  a  divine  government,  and  to  make  you  all 
familiar  with  it,  it  is  not  only  because  I  deem  it 
true,  nor  because  it  is  needed  to  harmonize  the  Scrip- 
tures, but  also  because  I  draw,  as  a  follower  of  God, 
great  consolation  from  it.  Behind  this  thought,  my 
hope,  when  assailed,  retreats,  as  birds,  when  a  tornado 
is  on  the  mountains,  swoop  to  the  shelter  of  a  granite 
ledge.  When  the  violence  of  evil  fills  the  land,  and 
the  high  places  of  the  earth  rock  and  sway ;  when 


170  DIVINE  GOVERNMENT. 

wrong  triumphs  over  right,  and  the  mean  and  the 
wicked  and  the  base  gain  ascendency ;  when  injus- 
tice is  expressed  in  statute,  and  license  to  sin  legis- 
lated and  hawked  about  for  sale ;  when  the  Gospels 
are  perverted  by  educated  folly,  and  the  Church 
sleeps,  while  vices,  like  serpents,  coil  and  nestle  in 
her  bosom,  —  my  hope  of  liberty  for  my  country  and 
my  race  finds  its  refuge  and  lodging-place  in  the 
assurance  that  "  God  reigns."  Is  it  not  true,  that, 
more  than  once  during  the  dark  days  of  the  war,  this 
thought  it  was  which  upheld  us  ?  And  he  of  blessed 
memory  —  Lincoln  the  just  —  turned  with  all  his 
people  more  than  once  to  the  Lord  of  hosts  for 
strength. 

I  have  now  discussed  the  value  of  government, 
and  your  minds  followed  on  to  the  conclusion,  that 
beyond  all  else  was  it  needed,  and  beyond  all  else  it 
must  be  preserved,  in  the  universe.  We  next  in- 
quired into  the  aim,  the  very  first  instinct,  of  gov- 
ernment when  attacked;  and  we  found  it  to  be  this, 
—  first,  to  perpetuate  itself ;  and,  growing  out  of 
this,  secondly,  to  vindicate  its  right  to  exist  by  pun- 
ishing its  enemies,  and  protecting  its  friends.  And, 
finally,  Ave  have  remarked  upon  the  need  of  a  strong 
central  government  in  the  universe,  and  the  consola- 
tion that  its  existence  affords  to  the  good.  Now,  to 
conclude,  what  relation  does  the  death  of  Christ 
hold  to  the  government  of  God  ?  It  holds  this  rela- 
tion :  It  answered  the  same  purpose  as  the  punish- 
ment of  the  sinner  would  answer.     God  might  now 


DIVINE  GOVERNMENT.  171 

pardon,  and  the  demands  of  his  government  to  the 
last  letter  of  the  law  be  complied  with.  The  prob- 
lem was,  How  could  God  be  just,  and  yet  the  justifier 
of  the  unjust  ?  Now,  go  down  to  any  judge  in  your 
city,  when  a  criminal  stands  before  him  guilty  by  his 
own  confession,  and  ask  him  to  forgive  that  criminal ; 
and  he  will  say,  in  reply,  "  How  can  I  do  this  thing 
you  ask,  and  remain  upright  ?  how  can  I  let  this 
criminal  go  unpunished,  and  remain  true  to  the  prin- 
ciples I  represent  ?  "  Suppose  some  judge  should 
fall  to  doing  this  thing,  —  not  in  one  case,  but  in  many 
cases  ;  should,  in  fact,  make  it  a  rule,  and  go  on  releas- 
ing, day  after  day,  all  the  criminals  brought  before 
him  :  what  would  be  his  reputation  in  j^our  city  ? 
Suppose  some  clergyman  should  preach,  Sunday  after 
Sunday,  that  the  judges  who  punished  thieves  and 
burglars  and  assassins  were  harsh,  cruel,  and  re- 
vengeful men  ;  that  they  were  not  kind  and  merciful 
and  loving,  because  such  qualities  of  heart  were  in- 
consistent with  their  inflicting  such  terrible  penalties 
on  their  fellow-creatures :  what  would  you  say  ?  Or 
suppose  he  should  proclaim  that  the  duration  of  the 
punishment  Avas  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  crime, 
and  that  no  good  and  benevolent  judge  would  ever 
consign  a  man  to  imprisonment  and  suffering  which 
would  last  as  long  as  he  would  last  on  account  of  a 
crime  which  did  not  take  five  minutes  for  him  to 
commit :  what  would  you  say  ?  I  am  not  talking 
theology  to  you  ;  I  am  not  trying  to  change  3^our 
views  ;  I  am  talking  of  principles  of  public  justice : 


172  DIVINE  GOVERNMENT. 

and  I  ask  you,  as  man  to  man,  what  you  would  tliink 
of  a  person  who  should  preach  such  stuff. 

But  suppose,  agam,  you  should  go  down  to  that 
judge  about  to  pronounce  sentence  upon  some  crimi- 
nal, and,  ascertaining  that  something  might  be  sub- 
stituted in  the  place  of  his  punishment  equally  satis- 
factory to  justice,  equally  honorable  to  the  law, 
equally  acceptable  to  the  judge,  present  the  equiv- 
alent —  perhaps  your  own  person  —  to  the  court  in 
behalf  of  the  criminal,  and  then  ask  the  judge  to  let 
the  man  go,  and  the  court  should  say,  "  Justice  being 
satisfied,  the  law  being  equally  honored,  public  safety 
equally  secured,  I  most  gladly  acquit  the  prisoner." 
My  hearers,  this  is  precisely  what  Christ  did  for  you 
and  me.  This  is  the  way  that  God  can  be  just,  and 
yet  the  justifier  of  the  unjust ;  this  is  the  philoso- 
phy of  salvation  as  held  by  the  orthodox  churches  ; 
this  is  the  relation  of  the  atonement  to  the  divine 
government ;  and  thus  pardon  and  eternal  life  can 
come  to  every  soul  now  before  me.  My  hearers,  you 
are  not  excited  ;  you  are  not  wrought  up  either  by 
invective  or  exhortation  :  you  are  in  a  calm,  reason- 
able state  of  mind ;  you  are  capable  of  correct 
judgment.  I  would  be  willing  that  you  should  sit  as 
jurors,  if  I  were  being  tried  for  my  life,  in  the  very 
state  that  you  are  in  now.  Let  me,  then,  ask  you. 
Is  not  this  method  of  salvation  considerate  and 
reasonable  ?  Would  you  have  it  honor  the  lawless  ? 
Are  you  not  glad  that  the  divine  government  over 
you  is  administered  according  to  the  highest  princi- 


DIVINE   GOVERNMENT.  173 

pies  of  public  justice  ?  Whose  honor  is  hurt,  whose 
sensitiveness  rudely  touched,  whose  intellect  im- 
posed upon,  by  this  scheme  of  salvation  ?  No  one's. 
Then  let  every  heart  be  lifted  in  gratitude  to  Him 
who  is  the  propitiation  for  our  sins  ;  and  not  for  ours 
only,  but  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world. 

We  ask  you  to  accept  of  Christ  only  so  far  as  you 
need  him.  We  present  him  to  you  who  are  ingulfed 
in  moral  dangers,  only  as  a  rock  built  up  in  the 
midst  of  the  waters,  and  toward  which  the  wave-like 
mercy  of  God  heaves  you.  If  you  do  not  need  him, 
then  to  you,  friend,  our  argument  has  no  point.  If. 
you  stand  to-day  innocent  before  the  law ;  if  your 
conscience  has  nothing  to  regret  or  condemn  ;  if, 
weighed  in  the  scales  of  God's  exact  justice,  you  are 
weighted  with  the  full  measure  of  holiness  ;  if  you  can 
go  to  your  heavenly  Father  as  to  one  against  whom 
you  have  never  sinned,  as  to  one  you  have  always  and 
in  every  thing  lovingly  obej^ed,  —  then  in  very  truth 
you  need  no  pardon,  and  the  word  "forgiveness" 
has  no  sound  of  sweetness  to  your  ears.  But  if  you 
have  not  so  lived  (now  mark  my  words  as  the  words 
of  a  friend) ;  if  back  of  you  are  deeds  committed  and 
deeds  attempted  of  which  you  can  say  nothing  save 
to  condemn  and  regret ;  if  you  have  lived  otherwise 
than  in  perfect  obedience  to  God  ;  if  your  record  is 
not  above  the  reproach  of  your  own  judgment  and 
conscience,  —  then  I  beseech  you  to  put  yourself  in 
such  a  position  to-day  as  shall  make  the  throne  of 
justice  a  throne  of  mercy.     Remember  that  the  "  ter- 


174  DIVINE   GOVERNMENT. 

ror  of  the  law  "  is  born  of  your  criminality  before  it, 
and  is  measured  by  the  degree  of  your  guilt. 

My  people,  more  than  once  have  I,  in  thought,  lifted 
myself  above  the  skies,  and  stood  within  and  beyond 
its  all-circling  walls  of  ether.  More  than  once,  clos- 
ing my  eyes  to  the  things  of  earth  and  sense,  have 
I  stood  amid  those  who  talked  in  music,  and  were 
clothed  in  white.  More  than  once,  by  faith,  have  I 
visited  the  wonderful  city  described  to  us  by  him  who 
closed  the  Bible  with  his  inspired  vision.  I  have 
seen  the  walls  fit  to  encircle  Deity  ;  the  gates,  through 
the  pearly  opening  of  which  the  Ineffable  passes. 
Nor  was  the  river  of  marvellous  quality  hidden.  I 
have  seen  it ;  I  have  gazed  upon  it  with  lips  that 
quivered  to  touch  the  tide,  which,  being  touched,  ban- 
ishes the  sense  of  thirst  forever.  And  other  wonder- 
ful sights  were  not  wanting :  harps  and  crowns  and 
sandals  of  gold,  —  all  were  there  ;  but  in  the  midst  of 
all,  higher  than  all,  more  majestic,  to  describe  which 
the  pen  refuses,  sajdng,  ''  Give  me  another  and  a 
nobler  language,  or  I  pause,  being  unable,"  rises  the 
throne  of  God.  From  under  it  the  river  of  life  has 
its  source.  There  it  is  born  ;  there  it  begins  to  flow. 
There  is  no  voice  in  heaven  that  does  not  sound  in 
praise  before  the  throne  ;  there  is  no  harp  that  does 
not  join  the  voice.  The  angels  journey  wide  and  far  ; 
but  never  do  they  cease  to  sing :  their  flight  is  one 
long:  line  of  soug^.  All  this  have  I  seen.  But  there 
is  One,  who  sitteth  on  the  throne,  I  have  not  seen :  I 
have  not  even  dared  to  think  I  saw.     His  brightness 


DIVINE   GOVERNMENT.  175 

veils  him.  Like  the  sun,  he  hides  himself  behind  the 
fervid  outgoings  of  his  glory.  Of  him  all  sing,  —  of 
him,  the  Invisible  ;  and  the  words  of  the  endless  song 
are  these  (chant  them  in  your  thoughts  as  you  go 
down  to  your  homes)  :  "  Blessing  and  honor  and 
glory  and  power  be  unto  Him  that  sitteth  upon  the 
\  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for  ever  and  ever ! " 


SABBATH  MOR^'ma,  DEC.  10,  1871. 


SERMOK 


TOPIC- HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

"  Jescs  answered  and  said  unto  them,  Go  and  show  John  agatn 
those  things  arillcu  ye  do  hear  and  see:  the  blind  receive  their 
sight,  and  the  lame  walk;  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf 

hear;     the    DEAD    ARE    RAISED    UP,    AND    THE    POOR    HAVE    THE    GOSPEL 
PKEACIIED  TO  THEM."  —  Matt.  xi.  4,  5. 

JOHN  was  in  prison ;  and  a  dungeon  was  a  hate- 
ful place  to  him.  All  his  life  long  he  had  been 
accustomed  to  freedom,  —  the  freedom  of  the  hills 
and  valleys  and  desert-places.  Until  now  he  had 
been  as  untrammelled  as  the  winds  which  blew  along 
the  Jordan.  He  had  been  a  child  of  nature,  and 
humored  in  every  caprice  of  impulse  and  movement. 
He  went  where  he  pleased,  and  slept  where  he  pleased. 
His  skill  furnished  him  with  his  daily  food.  He 
taxed  the  bee  and  locust,  and  compelled  them  to  yield 
him  sweet  and  nutritious  tribute.  He  knew  no  more 
of  cities  and  dungeons  than  an  American  trapper  on 
the  frontiers  when  a  thousand  miles  of  happiness 
stretch  between  him  and  the  sorrow  and  vice  of 
crowded  towns.  Of  all  the  men  mentioned  in 
the  New-Testament  history,  there  was  not  another 
ire 


HUMANITY   THE   BEST  PEOOF   OF  DIVINITY.    177 

unto  whom  prison-life  would  have  been  so  trying, 
or  a  dungeon  so  dreadful,  as  to  John.  Luke  would 
have  whiled  the  tedious  hours  away  in  meditation  on 
his  favorite  science ;  Peter  been  upheld  by  his  high, 
dauntless,  and  impetuous  courage  ;  the  ^'  beloved  dis- 
ciple "  borne  with  sweet  patience  his  fetters,  sus- 
tained by  the  remembered  voice  and  face  and  loving 
caress  of  his  Master :  but  John  the  Baptist,  this  un- 
tamed eagle  of  the  Judsean  hills,  this  ardent,  imperi- 
ous forerunner  of  the  Messiah,  rude  and  fierce  in  the 
very  overplus  of  zeal  and  energy,  —  how  he  must 
have  felt  the  pressure  of  bondage  !  how  he  must 
have  fretted  and  chafed  at  his  imprisonment ! 

It  was  not  because  his  dungeon  Avas  silent  and 
lonely  that  it  would  oppress  him ;  he  had  been  a 
lonely  man  all  his  life,  and  familiar  with  solitude ;  but 
it  was  the  loneliness  of  nature,  which  is  sweet,  and 
the  solitude  of  choice,  which  is  delightful.  Never, 
until  now,  had  he  known  bondage.  Never,  until 
now,  had  the  earth  and  sky,  the  woods  and  moun- 
tains and  bright  sun,  been  hidden  from  him.  He 
who  had,  from  his  infancy,  breathed  the  free  air,  — 
free  himself  as  it ;  had  been  his  own  master,  and  gloried 
in  his  rude  mode  of  life,  and  loved  it  passionately ; 
whose  spirit  resented  even  the  restraint  which  accom- 
panies contact  with  men,  and  a  residence  in  one  fixed 
abode,  —  was  now  in  a  Roman  prison,  and  confined  to 
a  dunof-eon-cell. 

Nor  must  the  circumstances  of  his  imprisonment  be 
forgotten.  They  were  peculiarly  calculated  to  fret 
him.    Every  thing  conspired  to  provoke  him  to  unea- 

8* 


178    HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

siness.  Suddenly,  almost  fiercely,  be  had  issued  from 
the  wilderness  before  the  eyes  of  the  startled  people. 
Rude  and  scant  in  apparel,  a  wild  man  of  the  woods 
almost  in  dress,  with  stern  aspect,  and  words  of 
sterner  command  upon  his  lips,  impelled  by  a  terri- 
ble earnestness,  he  went  up  and  down  and  through 
the  country-side,  calling  upon  the  nation  in  a  voice 
of  thunder  to  "  repent."  The  Scripture,  with  that 
vivid  simplicity  and  directness  of  description  which 
distinguish  it,  speaks  of  him  as  a  "  voice."  The  man 
is  forgotten  in  the  message,  as  the  cloud  is  unnoticed 
in  that  instant  when  the  awful  bolt  rives  it.  The  terror 
of  one  sense  interrupts  the  working  of  another.  The 
ear  is  so  appalled,  that  the  power  of  the  eye  is  sus- 
pended for  the  moment ;  and  the  trembling  creature 
fears  nothing,  save  that  the  heavens  are  coming  down 
in  ruin  upon  him.  So  it  was  with  John.  He  was 
not  a  man:  he  was  a  "voice,"  a  strange  and  awful 
warning  sent  out  of  God ;  a  voice  of  thunder  to  shake 
men'«  consciences,  and  make  the  ruddy  face  of 
healthy  sin  turn  white.  How  well  he  fulfilled  his 
mission  you  know.  The  terrible  "  voice  "  smote  all 
alike.  It  was  terribly  impartial  in  its  severity. 
Against  false  priest  and  false  ruler  it  hurled  a  com- 
mon denunciation.  It  went  home  to  the  consciences 
of  men  as  the  voice  of  righteousness  always  will.  He 
became  noted,  feared,  loved.  Followers  flocked  to 
him.  Success  accumulated.  His  prophecy  was  on 
the  very  threshold  of  fulfilment.  The  Messiah  was 
come.  Now  it  was,  when  every  thing  was  auspicious, 
every  thing  hopeful,  and  the  grand  consummation,  as 


HUMANITY   THE  BEST  PKOOF  OF  DIVINITY.    179 

he  supposed,  at  hand,  that  Herod  struck,  and  John, 
in  the  language  of  the  Scripture,  "  was  thrown  into 
prison."  From  the  very  centre  of  converging  activi- 
ties, from  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  a  reformer's  career, 
from  the  van  of  a  great  onsweeping  religious  move- 
ment, with  the  ground-swell  of  all  the  prophecies 
under  and  back  of  it,  and  to  which  his  life  and  labors 
were  as  the  gathering  crest  ready  to  break  into  purest 
white,  —  in  one  hour  was  he  taken,  and  consigned  to 
a  dungeon-cell. 

For  a  few  days  he  doubtless  was  resigned.  He 
had  a  hope  with  him ;  and  hope  is  ever  the  parent 
of  patience.  His  hope  was,  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
would  push  on  the  work  he  had  so  grandly  urged 
forward,  and  the  cause  should  not  suffer.  "If  he  is 
the  Messiah,"  he  doubtless  reasoned,  "he  will  do 
what  I  would  have  done,  —  only  better.  He  will  be 
another  '  voice,'  only  louder  than  mine,  to  this  peo- 
ple. ,  His  anger  at  their  sins  will  be  more  fierce  than 
mine,  his  warning-cry  more  terrible."  So  he  rea- 
soned and  mused  and  waited.  Days  passed;  and 
what  days  they  must  have  been  to  him !  —  days  of 
suspense,  of  hope,  of  gathering  dread.  Weeks  multi- 
plied, and  with  them  his  fears.  A  re-action  came. 
An  awful  revulsion  of  feeling  occurred.  Suspicion 
and  doubt  took  possession  of  his  soul.  Was  Jesus 
the  Messiah,  after  all  ?  Might  he  not  have  been  de- 
ceived ?  "  If  he  is  the  Messiah,"  he  might  have  said, 
"  why  does  he  not  proclaim  himself?  Why  does  he 
let  me  languish  in  prison  here,  under  a  foreign  ty- 
rant's power,  when,  by  one  word  of  his  omnipotent 


180     HTJMANITY  THE  BEST  PEOOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

might,  he  could  release  me  ?  Why,  if  he  is  the  long- 
promised  King,  does  he  not  gather  an  army,  and 
assert  his  authority?  Why  does  he  not  denounce 
the  nation's  sins  as  I  did?  Why  make  himself  so 
common  with  the  crowd  if  he  is  to  be  their  great 
High  Priest  ?  Why  does  he  supply  slander  with  its 
strength,  and  compromise  himself  at  banquets  and 
feasts,  and  by  companionship  with  the  hated  publi- 
cans and  scandalous  sinners  ?  "  Such  must  have  been 
the  agonizing  interrogations  that  John  put  to  him- 
self as  he  sat  brooding  in  his  prison-cell.  He  could 
not  answer  the  voice  of  his  own  anxiety,  nor  longer 
endure  the  agony  of  doubt.  At  last  he  got  a  chance 
to  communicate  with  some  of  his  followers ;  and  he 
said  to  them,  "  Go  to  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and  put  this 
question  directly  to  him.  Tell  him  that  you  come 
from  me.  Go  and  say,  'Art  thou  he  that  should  come  ? 
or  do  we  look  for  another  ?  '  " 

Such,  friends,  were  the  antecedents  of  this  mes- 
sage, such  the  position  of  John.  Let  us  attend  a 
moment  to  the  circumstances  of  its  delivery. 

The  disciples  of  John  left  him,  and  hurried  away 
to  find  Jesus.  What  must  have  been  their  feelings  ! 
and  how  their  master's  face,  as  they  saw  it  last 
through  the  dungeon-door,  must  have  haunted  them  ! 
They  knew  how  much  the  answer  meant  to  him. 
They  knew  in  what  a  suspense  he  would  wait  their 
return.  Very  likely,  they  shared  in  John's  doubts, 
felt  his  suspicions,  and  visited  on  Jesus,  mentally,  his 
censure.  Impelled  by  their  own  anxiety,  and  love 
for  their  master,  they  hurried  along.     Men  in  such  a 


HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PEOOF  OF  DIVINITY.    181 

frame  of  mind  as  they  were,  and  on  such  an  errand, 
could  not  lag  by  the  way.  At  last  they  came  to 
where  he  was,  and,  approaching  him,  delivered  word 
for  word  the  message  of  their  master :  "  Art  thou  he 
that  should  come  ?  or  do  we  look  for  another  ?  " 

Apparently,  Jesus  did  not  answer  at  once.  His 
answer  plainly  indicates  this.  He  had  been  engaged 
in  ministrations  of  mercy  before  they  broke  in  upon 
him.  He  continued  his  labor  of  love  ;  while  John's 
messengers  looked  on,  waiting.  We  do  not  know 
how  long  he  delayed  his  answer,  —  evidently  long 
enough  for  them  to  see  and  get  an  idea  of  what  he 
was  doing :  for  instead  of  answering  them  directly, 
"  I  am  he ;  I  am  the  long-promised  Messiah  ;  I  am 
the  one  to  whom  John  was  as  a  forerunner  and 
herald,"  he  said,  "  Go  and  show  John  again  those 
things  which  ye  do  hear  and  see  :  the  blind  receive 
their  sight,  and  the  lame  walk ;  the  lepers  are  cleansed, 
and  the  deaf  hear ;  the  dead  are  raised  up,  and  the 
poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  themJ'^ 

This,  then,  was  the  climax  of  many  evidences  ; 
the  last,  greatest,  and  surest  proof  of  his  Messiah- 
ship  :  not  that  he  was  exercising  miraculous  power ; 
not  that  he  was  by  a  supernatural  and  divine  author- 
ity commanding  sight  to  blind  eyes,  and  strength  to 
paralyzed  limbs  ;  but  that  the  poor  had  the  gospel 
preached  to  them  ;  the  despised,  forsaken,  neglected 
outcasts  of  the  country  were  recognized  as  fit  subjects 
of  religious  influence  and  God's  love.  He  knew  that 
this,  to  John,  would  be  the  greatest  possible  proof  of 
his  Messiahship.     And  then  it  was  that  the  truth 


182    HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

which  heads  this  discourse  as  its  topic  received  its 
first  and  noblest  expression ;  and  it  was  no  less  a 
personage  than  Jesus  himself,  your  Saviour  and 
mine,  my  Christian  brother,  the  Head  of  this  church 
and  of  all  churches,  who  declared  that  humanity  is 
the  best  proof  of  divinity. 

His  disciples,  doubtless,  returned  to  John,  and  told 
him  what  they  had  seen  and  heard,  and  the  answer 
Jesus  had  sent  back  to  his  interrogation.  He  was 
content.  He  saw  that  this  was  a  greater  than  a 
prophet,  —  even  God  himself  ;  and  the  violent  death 
that  soon  after  came  to  him  found  him  ready ;  and, 
sudden  and  swift  as  it  was,  he  died,  doubtless,  cheered 
and  sustained  by  the  knowledge  that  the  cause  that 
he  loved  better  than  life  was  in  the  hands  of  One 
able  to  move  it  on  in  abounding  triumph. 

I  ask  you,  therefore,  friends,  to  observe  that  the 
object  of  the  Christian  religion  is  to  make  men 
humane.  Humanity  is  the  road  along  which  men 
are  to  walk  up  to  that  high  level  of  perfection  which 
lies  like  a  plateau  before  God.  Christianity  seeks  to 
make  men  better  and  better,  until  they  become  per- 
fect as  their  heavenly  Father  is  perfect.  Its  object 
is  to  bring  all  members  of  the  human  race  together 
in  love  ;  to  wipe  out  all  distinctions  which  now  sepa- 
rate, all  customs  which  now  divide,  all  prejudices 
which  cause  variance  between  man  and  man.  No 
follower  of  Christ  is  truly  Christlike  until  he  feels 
toward  the  whole  world  as  Christ  felt  and  feels. 
Until  you  pity  as  he  pities,  love  as  he  loves,  forgive 
as  he  forgives,  judge  as  he  judges,  you  are  merely 


HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY.    183 

b.abes  in  Christian  attainment :  you  have  not  come  to 
his  perfect  stature.  It  is  not  to  make  men  think 
ahke,  but  feel  alike  in  their  love  one  for  another,  for 
which  the  Spirit  works.  Two  brothers  may  not 
think  ahke  on  a  thousand  subjects  ;  they  differ  in 
tastes,  views,  opinions:  but  the  same  fraternal  impulse 
is  in  the  bosom  of  either,  and  it  constitutes  a  holy 
and  an  everlasting  bond.  He  who  has  the  most  of 
this  fraternal  feeling  in  his  heart,  who  feels  his 
brotherhood  and  kinship  with  the  race  most  warmly, 
who  connects  himself  through  his  affections  and 
efforts  with  the  poor  and  neglected  of  the  earth 
most  directly,  — he  it  is  who  is  most  divine. 

And  now,  friends,  let  us  examine  into  this  matter ; 
let  us  ascertain  whence  this  humane  element  comes, 
and  by  what  law  of  growth,  if  any,  it  is  developed  in 
the  heart. 

To  start  with,  man,  in  the  barbaric  state,  is  not  hu- 
mane. The  impulse  of  selfishness  prompts  all  his 
acts.  He  regards  only  himself.  His  selfishness  is 
gross  and  vicious :  it  is  the  selfishness  of  the  tiger  or 
hyena,  —  watchful  to  smite,  and  quick  to  steal ;  a  self- 
ishness that  is  brutal,  and  knows  no  contentment 
save  when  gorged  to  satiety,  and  safely  ensconced  in 
its  lair.  This  is  the  state  of  the  cannibal,  and  of  all 
those  who  acknowledge  no  law  but  that  of  animal 
instincts.  There  was  a  time  when  the  earth  was  al- 
most peopled  with  such.  Our  own  Saxon  forefathers 
were  of  this  number.  Remember  that  every  people's 
idea  of  heaven  exactly  gauges  their  humane  attain- 
ment ;  and  the  Saxon's  paradise  was  a  huge  banquet, 


184    HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

where  the  tables  groaned  under  their  load  of  coarse 
animal  food,  and  the  revellers  drank  their  wine 
from  the  skulls  of  their  enemies.  In  this  state, 
every  man  is  master  of  himself  the  same  as  a  mastiff 
is.  He  knows  no  wants  but  those  of  his  appe- 
tites, no  law  but  the  indulgence  of  his  passion,  no 
joy  but  the  fierce  pleasure  of  his  exercised  ferocity. 
His  home  is  a  hut ;  liis  children,  servants ;  his  wife,  a 
slave. 

The  first  result  that  Christianity  produces  in  such 
a  rude  and  fierce  being  is  to  develop  his  emotional 
capacity.  Love  begins  to  exert  its  power  in  his  heart. 
The  mother  of  his  children  receives  a  new  dignity, 
and  ceases  to  be  a  mere  drudge.  Partially,  and  in  in- 
direct ways,  he  receives  her  as  his  companion.  'Alow 
order  of  domestic  life  is  born,  and  his  hut  becomes  a 
sort  of  home.  He  acknowledges,  to  some  extent,  the 
obligation  of  parentage ;  and  he  becomes  the  official 
head  of  a  family.  This  quickens  his  pride  :  he  aspires 
to  prominence,  power,  and  authority.  As  his  chil- 
dren multiply,  the  dignity  of  his  position  grows ;  and 
the  tribal  relation  is  established. 

You  see  how  the  man  is  being  gradually  made  gen- 
erous. Envy,  jealousy,  pride,  fear,  and  other  low  im- 
pulses, push  him  on  toward  nobler  emotions  and  ex- 
periences. He  thinks  now  of  many  besides  himself. 
His  position  makes  him  generous.  He  plans  now  for 
others.  He  is  still  selfish,  it  is  true  ;  but  his  selfishness 
is  of  a  nobler  sort  than  it  was.  It  is  not  now  brutal. 
His  sovereignty  makes  him  a  protector  of  others ; 
and  this  educates  him  into  a  knowledge  of  rights. 


HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PBOOE  OF  DIVINITY.  185 

Self-interest  compels  him  to  be,  at  least,  somewhat 
just,  honest,  and  courteous.  The  sense  of  responsi- 
bility and  the  stimulus  of  ambition  render  him  grave, 
thoughtful,  and  kindly.  The  cannibal  has  become 
the  chief  of  a  tribe. 

Out  of  this  germ,  as  you  all  know,  friends,  as  from 
an  unpromising  seed  in  a  sterile  soil,  springs  national 
life.  The  tribe  grows  to  be  a  nation,  and  the  chief 
becomes  a  king.  This  is  a  long  step  in  the  right 
direction  ;  for,  in  national  duty  and  life,  human  na 
ture  is  lifted  to  a  higher  terrace  of  effort  and  feeling. 
Citizenship  brings  to  the  individual  the  knowledge 
of  rights,  and,  in  so  doing,  introduces  him  to  a  new 
and  wide  realm  of  duty.  It  links  him  in  sympathy 
with  many  Avhom  he  has  never  seen,  and  will  never 
see.  It  reveals  and  inculcates  the  idea  of  brotherhood. 
He  no  longer  stands  apart  by  himself :  he  has  been 
swept  into  a  circle,  and  made  to  join  hands  with 
others.  He  is  one  of  a  mighty  brotherhood:  the 
charm  of  a  common  name  and  destiny,  like  a  father's 
blessing,  is  upon  all.  Wherever  two  Americans  meet, 
they  meet  as  brothers. 

You  see,  now,  how  the  national  element  is  useful  to 
God.  It  is  one  step,  and  a  long  one  too,  toward  love 
for  man :  it  is  in  the  interests  of  that  fraternity  which 
regards  every  human  being  as  a  full  man  and  brother. 

I  ask  you  to  observe  how  plainly  God  is  manifest- 
ing his  desire  that  all  nations  should  be  at  peace,  and 
live  in  amity,  one  with  another.  Christianity  is  evi- 
dently accomplishing  this  result.  The  age  in  which 
we  live  is  a  remarkable  one.     The  hand  of  the  Lord 


186    HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

is  under  this  generation  ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  pressure 
of  all  its  vices,  it  is  being  lifted  up.  The  forces  of 
many  centuries  have  culminated  in  this.  The  light- 
nings of  heaven  are  made  to  shoot  the  thoughts  of 
men  around  the  globe.  The  sea  has  felt  the  pressure 
of  the  divine  foot,  and  throbs  with  messages  of  love. 
The  language  of  inspired  poetry  is  no  longer  figura- 
tive ;  for,  in  very  truth,  "  deep  answereth  unto  deep." 
The  sympathies  of  men  are  no  longer  pent  up ;  they 
are  no  longer  local :  they  are  universal.  The  swarthy 
and  the  fair,  the  pure  and  the  stained,  the  free  and 
the  bound,  are  linked  in  the  clasp  of  a  hitherto  un- 
acknowledged brotherhood.  The  old  warfares  are 
hushed.  The  hovel  and  the  palace  cease  to  contend. 
Men  think  and  feel  and  act  differently  than  aforetime. 
The  birth  of  a  babe  in  a  manger  at  Bethlehem,  nine- 
teen hundred  years  back,  revolutionized  the  world. 
The  cross  is  the  pivot  around  which  all  science,  all 
progression,  all  upward  tendencies,  circle  and  swing 
with  an  ever-expanding  circumference.  Humanity 
has  been  quickened.  The  hand  of  the  Healer  has 
been  laid  on  the  paralytic,  and  his  veins  tingle  to  the 
rush  of  a  new  and  richer  circulation.  Behold  our 
liberty  !  Witness  ideas  of  government  growing  daily 
more  humane.  Consider  our  charities.  Estimate 
the  influence  of  our  myriad  schools  and  colleges 
scattered  all  over  the  land  thick  as  kernels  of  wheat 
in  the  rear  of  the  sower.  Hark  to  the  snapping  of 
fetters  around  the  globe  !  My  people,  the  Spirit  of 
God  is  on  the  earth,  and  working  mightily  in  the 
hearts  of  men,  inchning  them  to  peace  and  good-will. 


HUMANITY   THE  BEST  PEOOF  OF  DIVINITY.    187 

In  a  thousand  ways,  God  is  appealing  to  that  higher 
and  purer  part  of  man  implanted  at  birth,  and  yield- 
ing to  which  he  becomes  unselfish.  "  Put  yourselves," 
he  says,  "  in  all  your  policies  and  enactments,  on  the 
side  of  humanity,  and  you  shall  succeed."  The  na- 
tion that  despises  this  exhortation  of  God  shall  perish. 
You  must  not  think  that  this  humane  feeling,  this 
beautiful  and  fragrant  flowering-out  of  Christianity, 
is  to  be  monopolized  by  any  class  of  men.  Ministers 
and  missionaries  can  give  no  lovelier  expression  to 
virtue  and  humane  sentiment  than  a  merchant  or 
lawyer  or  carman.  A  business-man  can  be  mean  or 
noble  in  his  business,  as  he  chooses.  He  can  seek 
wealth  for  the  sake  of  being  rich,  —  for  the  sake  of 
the  power,  luxury,  indulgence  of  appetite,  or  lieense 
to  his  passions,  it  will  buy ;  and  some  are  moved 
by  such  a  low  and  wicked  impulse,  shown  by  the  fact 
that  the}^  become  more  selfish,  proud,  and  worldly 
with  every  passing  year.  Time  ripens  them  for  the 
grave,  but  not  for  heaven ;  and  although  they  own 
millions  here,  live  in  palaces,  and  are  known  with 
envy  of  many,  they  shall  not  have  even  the  garment 
of  a  beggar  wherewith  to  clothe  their  nakedness  when 
they  stand  before  God.  There  is  another  class  of 
men  in  whose  heart  Christian  principle  is  a  power. 
They  love  money  only  because  it  enables  them  to 
minister  to  others'  happiness.  This  purpose  underly- 
ing a  man's  life  ennobles  him.  He  is  ambitious;  but 
his  ambition  is  of  a  large,  a  divine  kind.  He  pushes 
hiiiQself  out  through  word,  example,  and  gift,  as  men 
push  life-boats  out  to  sea  to  save  the  shipwrecked. 


188  HUMANITY   THE  BEST   PROOF   OF   DIVINITY. 

It  is  a  brave  sight,  and  one  which  makes  the  heart 
leap,  to  see  stalwart  men  fling  a  boat  out  through 
the  surf,  and  themselves  into  it.  Amid  all  their 
straining  at  the  oars,  with  eyes  fall,  and  blinded  with 
the  spray,  the  brave  fellows  think  not  of  themselves, 
but  of  the  forms  that  are  clinging  to  the  rigging,  or 
lashed  high  up  on  the  swaying  mast.  So  the  mer- 
chant who  is  truly  Christian  feels  as  he  toils  at  his 
business.  He  thinks  not  of  the  money  he  will  make 
and  hoard  up,  but  of  the  good  it  will  enable  him  to 
do.  Do  not  say  that  this  is  overwrought  and  poeti- 
cal: if  it  is,  you  are  very  bad  men;  you  are  not 
Christians.  The  Master  cannot  own  you  as  his  disci- 
ples. You  are  not  his  disciples  :  you  are  the  disciples 
of  Mammon.  You  are  not  faithful  over  a  few  things  ; 
and  God  will  never  make  you  ruler  over  many 
things. 

The  mercenary  spirit  is  the  one  you  should  shun. 
Remember,  you  can  be  a  very  respectable  man,  and 
yet  a  very  bad  one.  It  makes  a  vast  difference  what 
standard  you  adopt  for  measurement.  We  are  apt  to 
judge  men  too  much  touching  their  relation  to  their 
wealth,  and  not  in  their  relation  to  society  at  large, 
to  the  poor,  to  the  Church  and  their  fellow-men.  I 
fear  some  of  you  estimate  worth  by  the  j^roperty 
standard.  That  is  a  vicious  measurement.  The  real 
question  of  your  worth  can  never  be  decided  until 
one  ascertains  what  you  are  worth  to  the  poor,  to 
the  ignorant,  to  a  correct  public  sentiment,  to  reli- 
gion, to  God.  Ships  and  stocks  and  houses  cannot 
gauge  manhood.     Many  a  man  makes  a  financial  sue- 


HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY.  189 

cess,  and  is,  nevertheless,  a  pitiful  failure.  Put  him 
in  the  balance  over  against  any  principle,  any  divine 
impulse,  and  what  weight  has  he  ?  Little,  or  none  at 
all.  He  has  not  even  filled  the  measure  of  manhood 
of  which  the  ancients  conceived.  The  philosophy  of 
Socrates  condemns  him,  and  the  spirit  of  chivalry 
would  deny  him  the  knightly  rank.  But  go  farther, 
as  in  justice  you  must ;  put  him  to  the  test  of  a  true 
analysis  ;  strip  him  of  his  wealth,  and  what  of  dig- 
nity and  estimation  it  brings  him  here,  and  measure 
him  by  the  manhood  of  the  resurrection,  —  and  how 
insignificant  he  seems  !  Imagine  the  ''  new  heavens  " 
above  his  head,  and  the  "  new  earth  "  beneath  his 
feet,  and  what  a  spectacle  he  presents  !  How  does 
your  millionnaire  look  now  ?  Who  of  you  is  it  that 
would  stand  in  his  place  ?  Down  upon  him  from  the 
cloudless  spaces  fall  rebukes  ;  up  from  the  thornless 
verdure  rises  a  protest.  He  set  himself  in  all  the 
acts  of  his  life  against  the  best  suggestions  of  earth 
and  heaven,  and  both  smite  him  with  their  censure. 
What  companionship  can  such  a  man  keep  in  the  next 
world  ?  Into  what  shining  circle,  opening  to  receive 
him,  can  his  soul  step  ?  With  whom  can  he  mate  ? 
Not  with  the  wise,  for  he  is  ignorant ;  nor  with  the 
brave,  for  he  is  not  heroic  ;  not  with  the  gentle,  for 
he  is  harsh  ;  nor  with  the  good,  for  he  is  selfish.  He 
has  loved  no  one  in  the  Christian  sense  ;  he  has  helped 
no  one  in  the  Christian  way.  If  humanity  is  the 
best  proof  of  divinity,  then  what  is  there  divine  in 
him? 

How  small  and  pitiful  some  men  become  in  death  I 


190  HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

Of  course  it  is  well  that  they  die  !  It  is  over  the 
graves  of  such  that  humanity  makes  its  progress. 
The  most  merciful  arrangement  of  God  is,  that  men 
cannot  live  a  thousand  years  as  tliey  once  did.  Un- 
der such  a  rule  of  life  the  wheels  of  moral  advance- 
ment would  be  blocked.  Without  death,  reform 
itself  would  die.  The  temple  in  which  humanity 
shall  finally  be  enshrined  as  priest  and  king  is  builc 
from  the  tombstones  of  the  selfish  and  unlovely ;  and, 
if  men  could  live  as  long  as  they  did  before  the  Flood, 
the  Almighty  would  have  need  to  inundate  the  earth 
again  in  order  to  wash  the  pollutions  out  of  it !  Out 
of  the  graves  of  our  stupidity  and  harshness  the  fer- 
tility of  the  future  will  be  germinated  ;  and,  standing 
on  the  mounds  of  our  prejudices,  our  children  will  be 
lifted  one  grade  higher  in  the  humane  sentiment  of 
universal  brotherhood. 

My  friends,  what  is  the  use  of  living,  unless  you 
can  better  some  soul,  and  bring  it  nearer  to  God? 
What  gain  like  to  this  can  the  days  give  one  ?  To  cheer 
the  despondent ;  to  lessen  the  grief  of  those  who 
mourn  ;  to  draw  by  the  irresistible  attraction  of  sym- 
pathy and  personal  goodness  the  erring  to  your  side  ; 
to  impress  the  fretful  with  the  nobihty  of  patience, 
checking  their  noisy  complaints  by  the  gravity  of 
your  silence  ;  to  lighten  the  burden  of  poverty  press- 
ing on  so  many  backs ;  to  supply  the  young  with  a 
worthy  ambition,  —  this  is  to  live.  Woe  to  such  as 
die  unregrettad ;  whose  departure  brings  no  moisture 
to  eyes !  Woe  to  the  rich  man  whom  the  poor  of  his 
neighborhood  do  not  miss  at  death  ;  whom  the  widow 


HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PEOOF  OF   DIVINITY.   191 

and  fatherless  do  not  mourn  as  a  departed  friend ; 
whose  departure  is  advertised,  not  in  the  obituary  of 
the  press,  but  in  the  sudden  absence  of  little  luxuries 
from  the  bedside  of  the  sick,  and  needed  comforts 
from  the  homes  of  the  poor  ! 

My  people,  I  am  confident  that  I  am  correct  in  my 
analysis  of  Christian  forces  and  results.  The  true 
evidence  that  you  love  God  is  found  in  your  love  for 
man.  If  you  do  not  love  your  brother  whom  you 
have  seen,  how  can  you  love  God  whom  you  have  not 
seen  ?  No  greater  mistake  can  be  made  than  to  sup- 
pose that  Christianity  is  a  creed.  Intellectual  belief, 
however  correct  and  biblical,  is  not  piety.  Christi- 
anity is  a  principle,  and  not  a  faith.  Faith  interprets, 
and  helps  one  to  realize  the  principle,  but  can  never 
supplant  it.  The  desire  of  Christ  is  not  to  get  our 
assent  to  a  certain  system  of  truth.  He  wants  as- 
similation of  our  natures  with  his.  The  priest  and 
Levite  were  more  correct  intellectually  than  the 
Samaritan ;  and  yet  you  know  Christ's  judgment. 
The  Samaritan  was  right  in  his  heart,  and  wrong  in 
his  head  ;  while  the  others  were  right  in  their  heads, 
but  wrong  in  their  hearts.  The  one  was  humane, 
but  not  orthodox ;  the  others  were  orthodox,  but  not 
humane  :  and  humanity  won  the  palm  from  God,  as  it 
always  will.  Love,  remember,  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law. 

The  power  and  glory  of  this  church  are  not  found 
in  its  traditional  strictness  of  belief,  in  its  doctrinal 
correctness,  or  its  theological  soundness.  These  may 
assist  somewhat  your  influence  for  good,  but  do  not 


192    HUMANITY   THE  BEST  PEOOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

constitute  it.  Your  power  and  glory  are  found  in 
your  practical  goodness ;  in  time  devoted,  in  money 
given,  in  talents  consecrated,  to  Christ  and  man.  It  is 
more  honorable  to  you  to-day,  as  it  was  more  pleasing 
to  God  thirty  yesLVS  ago,  that  you  were  an  antislavery 
church,  than  that  you  were  a  Calvinistic  church.  The 
fact  that  you  are  in  sympathetic  alliance  with  the 
temperance  movement  is  more  to  your  credit  than  that 
you  hold  stoutly  to  the  doctrine  of  native  depravity. 
Our  connection  with  the  North-end  Mission  is  a  bet- 
ter proof  that  we  are  a  church  of  Christ  than  our 
doctrinal  connection  with  the  Saybrook  Platform.  It 
is  the  fruit  on  the  branches,  and  not  the  color  of  the 
bark,  which  decides  the  nature  and  value  of  the  tree  ; 
and  so  it  is  what  this  church  has  done  for  God  and 
man,  and  not^what  it  intellectually  believed,  which 
has  made  your  history,  since  the  day  you  were  organ- 
ized, so  honorable.  It  is  by  their  fruits  that  organi- 
zations, as  well  as  men,  are  to  be  known.  ' 
.  I  wish  you  to  note  that  this  mode  of  judgment  will 
be  more  prevalent  in  the  future  than  it  has  been  in 
the  past.  The  tendencies  of  the  age  all  set  one  way. 
Christ  was  more  than  a  rabbi,  more  than  a  scribe, 
more  than  a  correct  and  spirited  expounder  of  the 
Bible.  His  heart,  his  life,  was  a  better  proof  of  his 
divinity  than  his  head.  The  best  evidence  of  his  Mes- 
siahship  was  that  he  preached  the  gospel  to  the  poor. 
The  same  rule  holds  true  touching^  all  of  us  who  are 
his  followers.  It  is  your  heart-goodness,  friend,  that 
connects  you  as  a  disciple  to  3^0  ur  Lord.  Mistrust  all 
other   evidence.     Build  all  your  hope  on   this.     Do 


HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY.   193 

good.  Love  the  brethren.  Forgive  your  enemies. 
Give  freely  to  the  poor.  Make  your  life  a  moral  ne- 
cessity to  many.  This  is  the  only  exhortation  I  have 
it  in  my  heart  to  address  to  you.  It  covers  the  whole 
ground. 

Many  of  you  love  this  church.  What  for  ?  It  will 
do  no  hurt  for  you  to  analyze  and  answer  that  ques- 
tion. You  are  ambitious.  That  is  rii^ht.  It  is  riolit 
to  be  ambitious  for  others'  good  and  God's  glory.  You 
desire  that  this  church  shall  abide  as  the  fathers 
founded  it.  So  do  I.  I  believe  in  its  doctrines.  I 
believe  in  its  opportunities.  I  believe  that  it  has  a 
great  work  to  do  in  this  city  in  the  years  to  come. 
But  I  assure  you,  one  and  all,  that  it  will  not  live,  and 
for  one  I  have  no  desire  that  it  shall  live,  unless  it  can 
live  to  the  quickening  of  public  virtue  and  the  salva- 
tion of  men.  Unless  you  put  it  in  closest  alliance  with 
the  unfolding  and  suggestive  providences  of  God  in  this 
city  ;  unless  you  place  it  in  the  van  of  its  humanities, 
its  culture,  its  piety ;  unless  you  connect  it  with  the 
moral  necessities  of  Boston,  as  a  supply  is  connected 
with  the  want  it  meets ;  unless  the  poor,  destitute,  neg- 
lected, and  sinful  shall  recognize  it  as  their  almoner, 
their  refuge,  a  fountain  of  overflowing  help  and  assist- 
ance for  them,  —  unless  you  do  this,  this  church  will 
not  live,  and  it  ought  not  to  live.  The  Almighty 
does  not  need  ornamental  churches  here,  or  famous 
churches,  or  churches  of  noble  history  and  grand  con- 
servative traditions,  of  stately  decorum,  and  sluggish, 
stagnant  res})ectability :  he  needs  churches  full  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  warm  with  the  fire  of  a  divine  zeal ; 


194    HUMANITY  THE  BEST  PROOF  OF  DIVINITY. 

full  of  holy  energies  and  benevolent  activities  ;  full  of 
love  and  sympathy  for  the  masses,  and  a  wise  use  of 
every  appliance  to  reach  and  elevate  them.  The 
church  that  does  the  least  is  the  least  worthy  to  live. 
It  has  been  granted  us,  friends,  to  live  in  an  un- 
usual age,  such  as  has  not  been  since  the  world  was. 
Back  of  us  lie  six  thousand  years  of  human  effort,  — 
effort  often  misdirected,  and  yet  never  entirely  use- 
less ;  for,  whether  it  led  to  victory  or  defeat,  it  added 
unto  experience,  and  lifted  the  level  of  opportunity 
higher.  Toilsomely  the  race  has  climbed  the  slope, 
generation  by  generation,  step  by  step,  until  we  stand 
at  an  immense  altitude  above  the  fathers ;  and  yet  only 
sixty  centuries  are  back  of  us,  while  eternity  lies 
ahead.  We  know  what  is  behind :  tears,  failure.;  and 
death  are  there ;  and  the  hollow  air  refuses  to  sur- 
render the  moanino^  of  those  who  died  moanin":  for 
the  light  they  might  never  see.  We  know,  I  say,  what 
is  behind  ;  but  we  hold  our  breath  in  solemn  expecta- 
tion of  what  is  to  come.  We  feel  that  here,  and  all 
over  the  world,  changes  are  taldng  place  in  the  moral 
and  political  world  such  as  occasionally  come  over  the 
earth  and  heavens  at  morning  Avhen  the  wind  and  sun 
join  their  forces  against  night  and  the  fog.  The  face 
of  God  is  being  lifted  upon  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
and  the  divine  wind  is  pulsing  around  the  globe.  A 
gleam  of  far-off  radiance  illuminates  the  darkness ;  a 
delicious  movement  agitates  the  air;  the  mist  is 
changed  to  golden  fleece ;  and,  behold,  the  Sun  of  right- 
eousness, full-orbed,  resplendent  with  healing  on  his 
beams,  is  rising  above  the  fog  !    Rise,  then,  magnificent 


HUMANITY   THE   BEST   PROOF   OF   DIVINITY.    195 

symbol  and  expression  of  the  Son  of  God  !  Rise,  with 
thy  vast  disk  aglow  with  fervor,  thou  fount  of  living 
light,  and  in  the  blue  firmament  above  us  fix  thy- 
self, as  a  king  mounts  his  throne,  and  takes  position 
before  all  his  subjects !  Our  eyes  shall  hail  thee, 
and  our  raised  hands  give  thee  welcome.  The  faces 
of  all  men  shall  be  uphfted,  and,  lighted  by  thy  down- 
streaming  TSijs,  a  common  likeness  shall  be  perceived, 
as  in  children  born  of  one  father  ;  and,  in  that  first  uni- 
versal act  of  intelligent  devotion,  the  long-lost  broth- 
erhood of  man  with  man,  the  world  over,  shall  be  per- 
ceived and  acknowledged,  and  man,  being  humane  at 
last,  shall  be  divine. 


SABBATH  MORJflJfG,  DEC,  24,  1871. 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.- ADHERENCE  TO  GOODNESS  IN  PRINCIPLE  AND  ACT. 


"Let  love  be  without  dissimulation.    Abhor  that  which  is  evil; 

CLEAVE  to  that  WHICH  IS   GOOD."  — Rom.  xii.  9. 


THE  word  "cleave"  is  a  strong  word  :  it  is  a  ner- 
vous, intense  word,  full  of  vigor  and  grip.  Cleav- 
ing is  more  than  adhering :  it  symbolizes  more  than  a 
negative  cohesion  :  it  expresses  a  state  and  condition 
of  positive  and  sympathetic  conjunction,  a  connec- 
tion intimate  and  vital.  When  a  person  "  cleaves  " 
to  goodness  in  the  sense  the  text  inculcates,  it  is  with 
the  energy  of  a  vital  alliance,  as  flesh  cleaves  to  the 
bones,  or  as  bones  to  their  sockets.  His  hopes, 
loves,  purposes,  and  desires  are  all  built  up  on  it  as 
the  body  is  built  up  on  the  skeleton :  he  is  corded 
and  thewed  to  it.  It  is  more  than  a  mere  support  to 
what  is  outward  and  seen  in  his  virtue.  The  union 
is  that  close,  indissoluble  union  of  like  to  like. 
Separation,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  alUance,  is 
impossible.  You  cannot  separate  a  kind  man  from 
his  kindness,  or  an  honest  man  from  his  honesty,  any 
more  than  you  can  separate  him  from  his  intellectual 

196 


ADHEKENCE  TO  GOODNESS        .  197 

faculties.  Moral  qualities  are  not  accidents,  but 
growths.  If  a  man  is  wicked,  then  is  his  wickedness 
in  him  as  acidity  is  in  the  sour  apple.  Evil  does  not 
lie  outside  of  him;  is  not  hung  upon  him, — some- 
thing that  he  puts  on  or  off  at  pleasure  :  it  is  in  him 
as  blood  is  in  the  artery,  and  as  marrow  is  in  the 
bone.  But,  friends,  the  moral  character  does  not  al- 
ter the  seat  of  its  residence.  Goodness,  like  wicked- 
ness, is  in  man,  and  a  part  of  man.  A  man  does  not 
put  off  honesty  at  pleasure.  If  he  is  dishonest,  he 
never  had  any  honesty  to  put  off.  I  do  not  say  that 
there  may  not  be  lapses  in  morals  ;  for  there  may  be  : 
but  such  lapses  are  just  what  lapses  in  memory  and 
judgment  are, — just  what  an  eclipse  is  to  the  sun. 
The  judgment  and  memory  remain,  the  sun  abides 
still  in  the  sky,  although  they  are  momentarily  ob- 
scured, and  fail  to  perform  their  natural  functions. 

Of  course  you  understand  I  am  not  speaking  of 
"  natural  goodness,"  as  some  call  it,  —  amiability,  af- 
fection, and  the  like :  I  am  talking  of  those  high 
moral  qualities  which  come  to  the  heart  of  man  by 
the  touch  and  infusion  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  of  those 
elements  of  holiness  which  are  the  marks  and  char- 
acteristics of  the  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  of 
those  acts  which  spring  from  the  possession  of  these : 
and  I  say,  that  if  a  professing  Christian  lies  and 
cheats  and  deceives,  if  he  overreaches  in  business, 
if  he  slanders  his  brother,  and  carries  about  with  him 
a  wicked  temper,  he  warrants  the  grave  fear  that  he 
has  never  been  renewed  in  heart ;  that  his  nature 
has  never  been  made  over  into  the  similitude  of  good- 


198  IN  PRINCIPLE  AND  ACT. 

ness,  but  is  yet  in  the  ''  gall  of  bitterness  and  the 
bond  of  iniquity." 

Now,  this  is  what  I  am  striving  to  impress  upon 
you,  —  and  I  believe  it  to  be  in  harmony  with  the 
Scripture,  —  that  those  moral  qualities  —  the  affections, 
the  inclinations,  the  tendencies  —  which  are  the  result 
of  the  Spirit's  operation  in  the  heart  are  inherent 
and  permanent.  They  are  not  mere  accidents  of 
one's  circumstances  and  surroundings  :  they  are  in 
and  of  the  very  soul  itself ;  and  the  acts  which  they 
generate  are,  to  the  soul  so  filled,  what  the  beams  are 
to  the  sun,  —  the  effulgence  of  itself.  Now,  no  one 
doubts  but  that  the  moral  excellences  of  Christ  were 
peculiarly  and  strictly  his  own.  Even  in  thought  you 
cannot  separate  them^from  his  divine  character.  You 
cannot  conceive  him  as  existing  apart  from  them. 
They  were  trul}^  and  verily  of  him.  They  were 
he  himself.  He  embodied  them.  He  incarnated 
them.  They  were  vibrant  in  his  flesh  and  blood. 
But  what,  pray,  is  the  result  of  the  Spirit's  work  in 
the  heart  ?  Into  what  is  the  natural  man  renewed 
when  the  transforming  power  of  grace  has  been  ex- 
perienced ?  Is  it  not  into  the  very  likeness  of  Christ? 
Does  not  the  same  mind  that  is  in  Christ  dwell  in 
those  who  are  Christ's  ?  Is  not  their  goodness,  in  its 
residence  and  character,  the  same  as  his  goodness? 
and  is  not  the  bond  of  union  which  unites  them  an 
essential  union?  You  pluck  a  branch  from  a  vine,  and 
is  it  not  in  its  elements  one  with  the  vine  ?  In  sap, 
in  fibre,  in  every  mark  and  constituent  quality,  the 
unity,  the   identity,  is  supreme.     Well,  in  the  realm 


ADHERENCE  TO  GOODNESS         199 

of  morals,  does  not  the  analogy  hold  good  ?  You 
take  a  Christian,  —  a  soul  renewed  from  what  it  was 
by  the  power  of  God ;  and  I  care  not  where  you 
find  it,  or  under  what  conditions :  the  tempest  may 
have  beaten  it  down,  a  cruel  blow  severed  it ;  it 
may  have  been  blown  about  by  the  violence  of  no 
matter  what  evil  fortune :  still,  even  in  a  withered 
and  dying  state,  you  will  invariably  find  it  of  Christ, 
and  like  Christ.  The  man  is  not,  and  may  never  be, 
a  natural  man.  The  kernels  may  be  shrivelled  and 
shrunk,  the  ear  blighted  and  mildewed:  still,  at  a 
glance,  you  know  that  it  is  not  a  tare  ;  it  is  wheat,  — 
the  outgrowth  of  the  golden  seed  and  precious  plant- 
ing of  God. 

A  good  man,  therefore,  incarnates  goodness.  Good- 
ness is  a  part  of  him  as  it  was  of  Christ.  He  can- 
not exist  apart  from  it.  The  fragrance  and  the  flower 
are  one. 

When,  therefore,  the  apostle  enjoins  us,  as  Chris- 
tians, to  "  cleave  unto  that  which  is  good,"  it  is  an 
exhortation  to  cleave  unto  our  renewed  natures ;  to 
abide  by  the  principles  and  the  expression  of  that 
holiness  that  is  of  us  and  in  us.  It  is  very  similar  to 
the  exhortation  to  "  put  off  the  old  man  with  his 
works,  and  put  on  the  new  man."  In  all  the  pur- 
poses, the  hopes  and  efforts,  of  our  lives,  we  are  to  be 
one  with  our  renewed  and  sanctified  natures ;  we 
are  to  rotate  like  a  planet  in  its  orbit  around  the  cen- 
tre and  source  of  holy  propulsion. 

I  have  said  that  the  connection  of  a  good  man  with 
goodness  is  a  vital  connection.     It  is  a  source  of  life 


200  IN  PEINCIPLE  AND  ACT. 

to  him.  He  grows  on  what  he  evolves,  even  as  an 
instrument  of  music  improves  in  itself  by  the  emis- 
sion of  its  own  sound.  Its  harmonies  feed  it ;  and  the 
melody  it  yields  to-day  insures  a  sweeter  melody  to- 
morrow. There  is  a  propagating  element  in  good- 
ness. It  is  full  of  parental  functions.  It  is  not  ster- 
ile, but  prolific.  Its  characteristic  law  is  that  of 
birth  ;  and,  of  all  the  children  born  unto  it,  each  is 
better,  nobler,  holier,  than  the  precedent  cause.  You 
will  catch  the  truth  of  this  when  you  remember  that 
this  is  only  the  counter-truth  to  that  one  which  ex- 
presses the  result  of  our  observation,  —  that  evil  grows 
continually  worse,  wickedness  propagates  itself  into 
an  ever-increasing  ugliness  of  expression.  A  wicked 
man  grows  more  wicked  both  in  the  nature  and  de- 
gree of  his  crime.  Even  as  a  bad  man  grows  w^orse, 
so  does  a  good  man  grow  better,  each  impelled  by  the 
force  of  the  elements  in  him  ;  and  each  lives  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  preponderating  influence  in  him.  This 
last  peculiarity  mentioned  emphasizes  the  intimate 
and  essential  connection  of  any  moral  state  with  the 
person  subject  to  it,  and  suggests,  that  preliminary  to 
all  true  personal  reformation  must  occur  a  change  in 
the  state  or  condition  of  the  nature.  The  vulture 
nature,  you  see,  must  be  eradicated  or  ever  jou  can 
expect  the  evil  bird  to  forget  its  carnal  cravings, 
and  change  its  fierce  habits  for  the  peaceful  and  gen- 
tle demeanor  of  the  dove. 

The  evil-doer  has,  therefore,  a  sympathetic  relation 
to  the  evil  in  and  around  him.  The  souls  of  all  the 
wicked  on  earth,  of  all  the   lost  in   hell,  are  mag- 


ADHERENCE   TO   GOODNESS  201 

netically  connected.  Diabolism  flows  into  and 
through  them  all,  each  being  a  perfect  conductor  to 
all  the  others.  They  thrill  to  the  passage  of  the  same 
intense  and  wicked  current.  Hence,  as  we  behold, 
they  act  in  concert,  with  ojie  accord,  —  a  banded 
brotherhood  of  evil  in  thought,  purpose,  and  act ; 
missionaries,  all,  of  a  gospel  of  hate  and  of  blood. 
But,  as  a  check  to  this  (for  God  fights  by  arraying  law 
against  law,  and  principle  against  principle),  —  as  a 
check  to  this,  I  say,  we  behold  as  Christians,  in  and 
around  us,  a  magnetic  connection  of  the  good  with 
the  good.  The  holy  are  in  a  lively  and  irrepressible 
sympathy  with  holiness.  The  good  man  is  good,  not 
merely  from  the  determination  of  a  lofty  purpose 
and  the  force  of  habit,  but  from  an  impulse  in  his 
soul,  which,  acting  with  the  energy  of  the  solar  prin- 
ciple, gives  requisite  propulsion  to  all  his  faculties, 
endowing  each  with  a  power  to  emit  a  proper  and 
beneficent  ray.  The  worst  representation,  because 
the  most  unscriptural,  is  that  which  presents  a  man 
born  of  the  Spirit  as  cleaving  to  goodness  solely,  or 
even  for  the  most  part,  because  of  a  continual  exer- 
cise of  his  will.  It  is,  indeed,  by  the  exercise  of  the 
will ;  but  it  is  by  the  exercise  of  a  reneived  will,  —  a 
will  previously  rectified,  and  brought  into  harmony 
with  what  it  is  its  duty  to  decide  and  do.  To  every 
spiritualized  mind  is  a  freedom,  a  sweep,  a  joy,  in 
all  holy  exercises.  There  is  to  him,  now  made  capa- 
ble of  appreciating  and  interpreting  it,  a  charm,  an 
attraction,  in  virtue,  which  constitutes  a  continual  and 
continually  sufficient  enticement.     He  moves  along 

9* 


202  IN  PRINCIPLE  AND  ACT. 

the  channel  of  daily  duty  as  a  ship  which  feels  be- 
neath it  the  motion  of  an  ample  current  moves  up  a 
river.  He  is  lifted  and  borne  onward  by  an  impulse 
as  strong  as  it  is  exhilarating ;  and  the  source,  the 
fountain-head,  of  the  blessed  impulse  which  impels 
him,  is  in  his  own  soul.  This  is  my  conception,  friends, 
of  a  good  man.  This  is  that  form  of  evidence  which 
to  me  seems  the  surest  of  all  marks  that  one  is  born 
of  God.  How  many  have  within  you  this  witness  of 
the  Spirit?  How  many  cleave  unto  goodness  for  its 
own  sake,  and  not  from  any  collateral  considerations  ? 
I  have  thus  far  been  discussing  the  subject  in  rela- 
tion to  the  nature  and  the  renewed  life  of  the  soul. 
But  goodness  relates  to  what  is  without,  as  truly  as 
to  what  is  within,  man.  To  cleave  to  goodness  is  to 
cleave  not  merely  to  the  principle,  but  also  to  the  ex- 
pression of  it.  Goodness  is  not  a  simple,  it  is  a  com- 
plex, conception.  It  can  be  predicated  of  the  act  as 
truly  as  of  the  character.  Incarnated  truth,  truth 
clothed  in  flesh  and  blood,  the  truth  of  the  substance, 
the  truth  of  the  soul,  —  this  is  one  kind  of  truth.  But 
truth  exists  in  the  abstract.  It  exists  in  law  and 
formula.  It  can  be  found  outside  of  man,  outside  of 
his  nature  and  character.  Man  cannot  embody  it  all, 
any  more  than  a  flower  can  embody  all  the  elements 
of  sweetness  in  the  atmosphere.  Truth  is  precious  as 
expressed  in  woman's  virtue ;  and  history  has  made 
the  names  of  such  as  would  not  live  when  it  was  lost 
immortal.  The  leaf  of  their  honor  will  never  fade  ; 
for  it  is  planted  by  the  rivers  of  water.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  are  truths  of  government,  lying  out- 


ADHERENCE  TO  GOODNESS         203 

side  of  human  nature,  which  are  worthy  of  being 
loved  more  than  the  life.  Liberty  is  one  of  these. 
Men  there  have  been  and  are  who  held  and  hold  it 
to  be  worth  more  than  all  the  world  besides.  It  has 
been  like  the  charmed  mirror  in  the  fable,  which 
had  the  power  to  make  whatever  it  reflected  beau- 
tiful ;  for  men  who  died  gazing  at  it  found  even  death 
to  be  lovely,  and  died  as  one  who  falls  asleep  in  the 
arms  of  a  great  contentment. 

Now,  one  of  the  beautiful  results  of  gospel  influ- 
ence on  the  heart  is,  that  it  makes  it  to  realize  how 
good  goodness  is.  It  pa,rts  the  incasements,  and  the 
beauty  and  perfume  appeal  to  the  senses.  I  am  not 
theorizing  now ;  I  am  not  parading  an  orthodox 
notion :  I  am  speaking  from  my  own  experience, 
and  the  experience  of  hundreds  before  me.  We 
know  when  the  miracle  was  performed  on  us.  We 
know  when  our  eyes  were  touched,  and  we  first  saw. 
There  was  a  time  when  we  did  not  realize  how  good 
goodness  is.  It  was  a  far-off  flower  of  which  we 
had  heard,  but  had  never  inhaled.  But  at  last  God 
brought  us  to  it.  We  breathed  the  odor  as  of  an- 
other world.  We  saw  it  fresh  with  dew  which  had 
distilled  upon  it  from  the  ether  that  surrounds  God, 
and  is  to  him  what  common  air  is  to  our  nostrils,  — 
saw  it,  and  put  it  in  our  bosoms  ;  and  the  proof  that  it 
is  of  heaven  is  seen  in  this,  that  it  gains  in  sweetness 
with  the  years. 

A  Christian,  then,  is  one  who  perceives  and  feels 
the  beauty  of  moral  excellence.  -He  cleaves  to  it 
with  the  adhesion  of  a  vital  and  vitalizing  affection. 


204  IN  PRINCIPLE  AND  ACT. 

He  grows  into  it  as  a  germ  into  a  grafted  limb.  He 
feeds  on  its  food.  He  lives  in  its  life.  The  power 
of  this  connection  is  incalculable.  Its  elevating  and 
expansive  force  is  beyond  estimate.  Many  of  you 
have  felt  it.  You  have  felt  it  in  business.  It  has 
enabled  you  to  live  wider  and  higher  lives  than  your 
circumstances  engendered.  The  conditions,  the  ne- 
cessities, of  your  lives  are  material.  They  tie  you 
down  :  you  toil ;  you  delve  ;  your  daily  occupation, 
your  duties  even,  are  "  of  the  earth,  earthy."  But  in 
your  love  of  goodness,  in  your  connection  with  it,  you 
have  found  relief  and  release.  It  has  lifted  you  ;  it 
has  refined  you.  You  would  have  lived  grossly: 
this  has  caused  3^0 u  to  live  spiritually.  You  would 
have  forgotten  the  next  life  ;  but  this  has  made  you 
to  bear  it  continually  in  mind,  until  this  spiritual 
forecast  is  a  habit  with  you,  and  all  your  planning 
and  thinking  are  modified  by  this  conception. 

It  is,  therefore,  to  professing  Christians  that  the  in- 
junction of  the  text  comes  with  peculiar  and  expres- 
sive energy.  We  who  realize  the  beauty  of  that 
which  is  good  ;  we  who  have  felt  and  do  feel  its 
power  in  our  souls  ;  we  who  were  begotten  into  its 
likeness,  and  bear  its  image,  —  we  are  exhorted  to 
cleave  to  it. 

Now,  if  you  will  look  within  (I  mean  into  your  own 
heart,  friend),  you  will  see  two  classes  of  thoughts  in 
your  mind,  two  types  of  imagination,  two  kinds  of  emo- 
tion, two  classes  of  habits.  These  differ  in  their  na- 
ture, and  of  course  in  their  expression.  Of  thoughts, 
some  are  good,  others  bad.     Of  imaginations,  some 


ADHEEENCE  TO  GOODNESS         205 

are  pure,  others  impure  ;  and  the  latter,  using  the 
senses  as  their  allies,  seek  ever  to  gain  the  ascend- 
encj.  Of  habits,  some  are  correct  and  healthful, 
others  evil  and  injurious.  Now,  of  these  two  types  of 
nature  in  you,  which  do  jon  favor?  Which  class  of 
habits,  for  instance,  do  you  nurse  ?  Let  the  interro- 
gation bring  down  its  full  weight  upon  the  conscience. 
Meet  the  question  face  to  face  to-day,  friend.  Draw 
the  line,  and  see  on  which  side  you  stand. 

Or  take  your  imaginations,  and  catalogue  them. 
Enter  that  wonderful  land,  filled  with  birds  which 
beat  the  air  with  wings  lilvc  night,  or  trace  their  circles 
with  vans  as  Avhite  as  snow,  and  tell  us  which  fly  the 
thicker.  Is  the  air  above  your  head  dark,  or  bright  ? 
Is  it  the  home  of  ravens,  or  of  doves  ? 

I  caution  you  here  not  to  judge  yourselves  by 
any  conventional  standard  of  morals  or  purity.  I 
am  talking  too  solemnly  for  you  to  give  a  super- 
ficial response.  I  am  talking,  not  of  manners  and 
customs  and  ordinances  of  man,  nor  of  human  society, 
which  is  artificial  in  its  structure,  and  often  tyran- 
nical in  its  applications :  I  am  talking  to  you  on 
the  level  of  the  soul-life.  My  spirit,  sitting  over 
against  your  spirits,  our  eyes  fixed  on  the  celestial 
hills,  along  the  shining  slopes  of  which  our  future 
homes  stand,  is  speaking  to  you  of  a  life  and 
communion  not  limited  by  tlie  line  of  ordinary 
"  morals,"  but  by  the  line  of  that  final  and  supreme 
holiness  which  shall  circumscribe  us,  when,  free  of 
these  hindering  and  vexatious  bodies,  we  stand  co- 
sharers  with  Christ  in  those  liberties  and  harmonies 


206  IN  PRINCIPLE  AND  ACT. 

which  come  to  those  whose  thougjhts  are  never 
checked,  because  always  pure  ;  whose  utterance  is 
free,  because  it  speaks  of  nothing  but  innocent  feel- 
ings ;  whose  hopes  are  all  realized,  because  based  on 
holy  desires.  You  understand  now  of  what  I  am 
speaking ;  and  I  say  to  you,  Be  ashamed  here  of  noth- 
ing of  which  you  would  not  be  ashamed  there.  On 
the  level  of  your  powers  and  wants  and  desires  now 
be  as  pure  as  you  will  be  on  the  level  of  your  powers 
and  wants  and  desires  then.  Clasp  nothing  that  you 
cannot  embrace  before  God.  Love  forever  ;  but  love 
only  what  will  make  you  more  heavenly  to  love  in 
heaven. 

It  is  the  chief  glory  of  the  Bible  that  it  is  a  book 
written  expressly  for  erring  men.  It  tells  the  dis- 
eased man  how  he  can  be  healed.  It  tells  the  de- 
spairing leper  in  what  river  he  must  go  and  wash.  It 
analyzes  the  blood,  and  directs  the  discouraged  pa- 
tient what  he  must  do,  and  where  go,  in  order  to  be 
healed.  Now,  to  all  you  conscious  of  a  double  life,  — 
conscious  of  this  duplex  class  of  thoughts,  emotions, 
imaginations,  and  habits,  —  it  comes  to-day,  and  in  the 
language  of  the  text  gives  you  warning  and  direction. 
Looking  at  you  as  a  creature  of  impulse,  of  emotion, 
it  charges  you  to  cultivate  those  which  are  noble. 
Remembering  the  vast  influence  which  imagination 
wields  over  the  thoughts,  and  through  these  upon  the 
acts,  —  so  much  so,  that  it  might  well  be  called  the 
mother  of  our  ambition  and  our  habits,  —  it  enjoins 
with  the  vehemence  of  solicitude  and  warning  that 
we  cleave,  and  cleave  only,  to  that  which  is  good. 


ADHERENCE  TO  GOODNESS         207 

My  friends,  it  is  not  acts  which  blacken  the  soul ;  it 
is  not  conduct  which  destroys.  These  are  but  the 
holes  which  the  worms,  bred  in  the  very  fibre  of  the 
wood,  have  eaten.  These  are  but  the  fruit  and  visi- 
ble witness  of  a  disease  which  holds  the  entire  body 
in  its  power,  making  the  veins  its  channels,  every 
drop  of  blood  its  servant,  every  pulsation  of  the  heart 
its  slave.  The  thoughts  destroy.  The  imagination 
puts  the  knife's  edge  to  the  jugular  vein  of  virtue, 
and  lets  the  precious  current  out.  You  cannot  re- 
form a  drunkard  until  you  first  reform  his  mind. 
What  needs  to  be  done  is  to  have  the  craving  for 
stimulants  taken  out  of  him.  Over  against  his  inor- 
dinate desire  you  must  raise  up  some  stronger  repul- 
sion which  shall  be  more  than  a  match  for  his  appe- 
tite for  liquor.  This  is  the  true  philosophy  in  every 
branch  of  morals.  You  must  change  the  man  him- 
self if  you  would  change  his  habits.  There  is  no  life 
so  hard  as  a  religious  life  to  a  man  without  religion. 

Now,  observe  that  there  is  no  religion  but  the 
Christian  which  proposes  to  meet  this  first  and  great- 
est want  of  mankind.  Examine  all  other  religions 
of  the  world,  examine  all  the  novel  philosophies  of 
the  day,  and  you  can  find  not  even  the  first  trace 
of  an  attempt  to  reform  man's  habits  by  a  prior 
reformation  of  his  nature.  There  is  no  doctrine  of  a 
new  birth  in  all  their  creed.  There  is  no  confession, 
apparently  no  knowledge,  of  man's  first  necessity. 
And  3^et  you  all  see  how  fit  a  doctrine  it  is,  how 
adapted  to  meet  the  end  proposed.  This  is  why 
they  all  fail.    They  say,  "  Take  any  tree,  —  no  matter 


208  IN  PRINCIPLE   AND   ACT. 

how  wild,  or  how  bitter  in  its  fruit,  —  transplant  it 
into  good  soil,  put  it  in  a  spot  where  the  sunshine 
can  reach  it,  water  it  abundantly,  and  the  fruit  will 
be  sweet  and  perfect."  You  see  their  mistake.  The 
distinctive  characteristics  of  a  tree  are  not  in  its 
surroundings,  but  in  its  nature.  If  that  is  bitter,  it 
remains  true  to  its  bitterness,  no  matter  where  you 
plant  it.  You  must  graft  in  a  new  vital  principle, 
you  must  charge  all  its  roots  with  new  and  sweeter 
juices,  before  the  fruit  will  be  what  you  desire.  But 
such  a  work  requires  higher  power  than  man's:  it 
requires  supernatural  power  ;  and  this  supernatural 
in  religion  is  what  they  would  fain  ignore.  They 
want  a  religion ;  but  it  must  be  *  a  Godless  one. 
They  wish  spirituality  without  the  Spirit ;  they 
wish  salvation  without  the  Saviour.  You  see  at  a 
glance  their  error  and  their  misfortune.  Advocates 
of  reformation,  they  publish  no  adequate  means  of 
reformation.  They  seek  to  make  men  cleave  to  good- 
ness before  they  have  made  them  love  goodness. 
Their  religion  is  a  deification  of  the  human  will  and 
the  human  taste. 

But  I,  and  whoever  else  preaches  the  glad  news  in 
Christ  Jesus  faithfully  as  it  is  recorded  in  the  Bible, 
point  you  to  a  religion  that  is  of  God,  and  not  of  man. 
We  do  not  deceive  men  by  telling  them  that  their 
disease  is  so  slight,  that  they  can  easily  cure  them- 
selves. We  assure  them  that  they  are  stricken  unto 
death  itself,  and  that  no  ordinary  prescription  will 
avail.  Our  philosophy  is  not  a  Godless  philosophy. 
Our  religion  is  not  one  of  aesthetic  culture.    Our  creed 


ADHERENCE  TO  GOODNESS         209 

is  not  one  which  proclaims  the  adequacy  of  natural 
forces  to  redeem  man.  We  know  our  weakness  by 
an  anal3"sis,  the  certainty  of  which  is  proved  by  the 
confession  of  almost  universal  experience  and  the 
unqualified  statement  of  the  word  of  God.  We  know, 
and  we  tell  you  one  and  all,  that  virtue  is  not  easy  to 
the  mass  of  human  beings ;  that  no  one  will  cleave 
unto  v/hat  he  does  not  love ;  and  that  the  first  step  in 
the  reformation  of  the  soul  is  to  rectify  the  inclina- 
tions and  tempers  of  the  soul  itself.  And  we  say  t^ 
you  to-day,  giving  voice  to  the  utterance  of  Him  who 
declared  the  same  to  his  disciples  long  years  ago, 
"  Unless  ye  be  horn  again^  ye  cannot  see  the  king- 
dom of   heaven." 

Come,  then,  to  the  great  Physician.  Here  he 
stands  waiting  to  receive  you.  Come  with  your 
weakness  and  your  faults,  come  with  your  fractured 
virtue  and  your  broken  hopes,  come  with  your 
blinded  eyes,  come  trembling  with  doubts,  come 
even  in  your  despair,  and  you  shall  be  healed. 
Even  as  you  experience  the  love  of  God  manifested 
in  the  forgiveness  of  your  sins,  there  shall  spring  up 
in  your  souls,  touched  by  the  Spirit,  a  new,  a  hitherto 
unfelt,  a  wonderful  love  for  him.  You  will  thence- 
forth cleave  to  him,  not  by  an  effort  of  will,  but  in- 
stinctively, as  a  babe  to  the  neck  of  its  mother.  You 
will  take  hold  of  him  with  your  soul ;  you  will  em- 
brace him  with  your  affections ;  you  will  glorify 
him  in  your  life. 

My  people,  we  stand  within  a  step  of  the  glad 
Christmas-time.     The  laurel  and  the  evergreen   are 


210  IN  PEINCIPLE   AND   ACT. 

gathered,  —  the  one  to  symbolize  the  triumph,  and  the 
other  the  everlasting  nature,  of  that  goodness,  which, 
nineteen  centuries  back,  came  with  the  coming  of 
our  Lord  into  the  world.  Over  half  the  globe  it  is  a 
season  dedicated  to  mirth,  and  never  had  laughter 
a  better  cause  to  sound ;  to  gifts  of  friendship,  and 
never  until  Christ  came  did  man  know  how  noble  and 
inclusive  friendship  might  become  ;  to  charity  of 
heart  and  hand,  —  the  one  forgiving  of  the  faults, 
the  other  ministering  to  the  wants,  of  men.  The 
happy  Christmas-time  —  what  does  it  not  suggest  of 
love,  courtesy,  and  peace  ?  Even  the  poor  shall  for  a 
single  day  have  a  hint  of  plenty  ;  the  happy,  an  hour 
in  which  they  can  express  their  happiness  ;  and  even 
he  who  sees  the  hope  that  long  has  cheered  him  dy- 
ing out  as  dies  a  fading  star,  leaving  his  sky  one 
stretch  of  unlighted  gloom,  shall,  in  his  dreams  at 
least,  behold  it  shining  with  more  than  its  old  bril- 
liancy in  that  other  and  superior  firmament  from 
which  no  star  of  all  its  crowded  constellations  can 
ever  drop. 

O  friends !  I  hear  the  music  of  that  ancient  time. 
I  see  the  Star  and  the  star-gazers.  The  sign  for  which 
the  ages  wearily  waited  has  come  at  last,  and  the  hom- 
age of  the  world  begins  to  move  toward  Bethlehem. 
Heaven  cannot  contain  itself.  Angels  surge  over  its 
boundaries,  and,  cleaving  the  intervening  space  with 
wings  that  cannot  lose  their  heavenly  sheen,  sail  along 
the  hills  of  the  earth.  They  sing,  —  the  speech  of  their 
native  skies  is  music,  —  and  their  chorals  sound  abroad. 
What  words  are  these  that  drop  upon  the  air  like 


ADHEEENCE  TO  GOODNESS.  211 

notes  which  in  their  sweetness  find  undying  life,  "  On 
earth  peace  "  ?  Peace  I  —  the  earth  had  never  known 
it  since  the  first  sin.  Its  history  had  been  a  sea 
shaken  by  winds,  and  tossed.  In  it  milHons  were  in- 
gulfed, and  men  steered  over  it  only  to  shipwreck. 
But  still  the  angels  sang,  and  still  the  song  swells  on. 
Its  waves  of  melody  are  spreading  everywhere ;  and 
when  the  globe  is  circled,  and  every  breeze  shall  waft 
the  strains,  the  earth  with  a  unanimous  voice  shall 
hail  the  joyful  Christmas-time,  and  every  man,  seeing 
a  brother  in  each  fellow-man,  shall  say  each  to  his 
neighbor,  "  The  hour  is  come  at  last,  —  thrice-happy 
hour  !  for  everywhere,  at  last,  peace  is  on  earth,  and 
good- will  to  men." 


SABBATH  MOaJVIJ^G,  DEC.  SI,  1871. 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.- MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHERS. 

"  liVEX  AS  THE  Son  of  man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto, 

BUT    TO    minister,    AND    TO    GIVE    HIS    LIFE    A    RANS03I    FOK    MANY."  — 

Matt.  XX.  28. 

I  WISH  to  speak  to  3^011  this  morning  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  ministering  to  others.  I  wish  to  bring  out 
and  set  before  you  how  the  lives  of  men  become  un- 
selfish both  by  an  unconscious  and  a  conscious  be- 
nevolence, and  that  nobility  and  spirituality  of  heart 
and  mind  are  possible  to  those  even  whose  energies 
are  spent  in  grappling  with  the  material  forces  of 
the  world. 

There  are  two  Avays  in  which  men  can  give  their 
lives  for  men :  the  one  is  by  the  voluntarj^  surren- 
der of  themselves  to  death,  and  the  other  by  the  gen- 
erous and  humane  influence  of  their  acts. 

The  first  is  the  more  striking.  There  is  something 
impressive  in  the  idea  of  one  man  dying  for  another. 
It  was  one  of  the  methods  God  took  to  force  upon 
men  the  conviction  of  his  love  for  them  ;  and  Calvary 
will  stand  forever  as  the  highest  expression  of  divine 
benevolence.  Christ  made  it  the  highest  test  of  love 
212 


MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD   OF  OTHERS.      213 

when  lie  said,  "  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than 
this,  that  a  man  lay  clown  his  life  for  his  friend." 
Nor  is  history  lacking  in  instances  of  this  supreme 
proof  of  love,  this  supreme  self-sacrifice  for  the  good 
of  others.  Enumerate  such  as  fell  in  battle,  fighting 
for  liberty  ;  summon  them  from  their  bloody  graves, 
where,  unknown  and  unnoted,  they  lie  ;  and  what  a 
host  you  have  I  Marshal  them  in  companies,  in  bat- 
talions, in  regiments,  in  divisions,  in  armies  :  be- 
hold what  masses,  what  interminable  lines,  what 
endless  columns,  what  a  dense  array  !  And  yet  to 
each  and  every  one  of  all  these  millions  life  was 
precious.  Each  had  his  joys,  his  loves,  his  friend- 
ships, his  hopes,  his  dreams :  in  every  case,  these 
were  surrendered.  They  counted  not  their  lives  dear 
unto  themselves ;  they  gave  them  for  the  common 
good,  —  to  ransom  men  from  bondage  and  degrada- 
tion. Or  what  shall  I  say  of  those  who  died  at  the 
stake,  who  languished  in  dungeons,  who  endured 
exile  and  made  their  graves  in  foreign  lands,  who 
suffered  the  loss  of  all  things  for  the  sake  of  truth, 
being  steadfast  even  unto  death  ?  Or  shall  I  speak 
of  those  that  watch  in  sick-chambers,  wearing  their 
lives  out  for  the  diseased,  the  infirm,  the  bed-ridden  ? 
or  of  those  who  serve  in  hospitals,  or  flutter  like  an- 
gels of  mercy  amid  the  din  and  dreadful  uproar  of  bat- 
tle, ministering  to  the  Avounded  and  the  dying  until 
they  themselves  are  smitten  ?  or  even  of  the  police- 
man, who,  stricken  down  by  the  burglar's  billet  in 
front  of  your  dwelling,  yields  up  his  life  for  the  public 
safety  ?     Have  not  all  these  given  their  lives  for  man  ? 


214       MINISTERING  TO   THE   GOOD   OF  OTHERS. 

Have  they  not  all  imitated,  so  far  as  their  nature 
and  office  would  allow,  the  great  sacrifice  that  Christ 
made  of  himself  on  Calvary  ?  How  unmindful  we 
are  of  the  sacrifices  that  have  been  made  for  us  ! 
How  little  do  we  think  of  those  great  examples  of 
faithfulness  unto  death  of  which  the  annals  of  the 
world  are  full !  Do  we  not  do  well  to  summon  such 
from  their  graves,  to  let  them  all  stand  forth  in  the 
Hght  of  our  generous  acknowledgment  ? 

But,  friends,  this  is  not  the  only  way,  or  the  way 
open  to  most,  in  which  we  can  give  our  lives  to  oth- 
ers. It  is  not  in  dying,  but  in  living,  that  sacrifice  is 
possible :  and  I  wish  to  unfold  this,  and  make  it 
plain  to  you ;  I  wish  to  show  you  a  side  of  your 
lives,  and  results,  which  may  not  have  often  occurred 
to  3^ou. 

Here  is  a  man  who  started,  thirty  years  back,  a  poor 
boy.  He  is  now  at  the  head  of  a  large  business.  He 
sends  ships  out  over  all  the  world ;  his  agents  are  in 
every  State  ;  he  is  rich :  men  say  that,  and  stop  there, 
as  if  they  had  summed  the  results  of  his  hfe  all  up. 
But  have  they?  Is  that  all?  He  has  given  the  labor 
of  his  life  to  trade,  to  commerce,  to  manufacture  ;  and 
he  has  received  —  what  ?  Wealth,  you  say,  —  a  few 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  And  so  he  has.  He  has 
received  that ;  but  what  has  he  given  to  society,  to 
the  nation,  to  the  world?  Benefits  unnumbered,  I 
reply,  —  incentives,  opportunities,  industries.  He  has 
given  work  to  the  idle ;  he  has  quickened  skill  with 
employment ;  he  has  kept  invention  active  ;  he  has 
inaugurated  improvements  in  a  dozen  different  direc- 


MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHEES.      215 

tions.  lie  has  made  it  possible  for  thousands  to  have 
food  and  clothes  and  homes.  He  has  helped  to 
build  schools  and  colleges  and  churches ;  sent  the 
word  of  God  to  heathen  lands  ;  and  mingled  his  life 
in  the  current  of  every  reform.  Am  I  to  think  of 
such  men,  and  measure  them  by  what  their  skill  and 
labor  and  tact  have  put  into  their  own  pockets,  and 
forget  all  the  mighty  volume  of  good  that  they  have 
added  to  the  spiritual  and  benevolent  forces  of  the 
world  ?  Do  you  not  see  and  rejoice,  friends,  at  the 
thought  that  God  has  made  the  order  of  things  such, 
that  no  man  can  monopolize  the  results  of  his  life  ? 
You  might  as  well  try  to  fence  in  the  fragrance  of  a 
garden  as  the  influence  of  such  a  career.  While  you 
are  thinking  only  of  what  you  will  get  by  such  or 
such  a  course,  while  you  think  only  of  your  income^ 
God  thinks  of  what  the  race  will  receive  by  your 
temperance,  your  honesty,  your  activity,  of  all  the 
beneficent  outgoing  of  your  example.  And  I  say 
unto  you  all,  that  you  who  are  upright,  industrious, 
patient,  honorable,  are  yielding  forth  day  by  day  for 
the  benefit  of  mankind  more  than  you  receive  unto 
yourselves. 

Take  the  scholar,  and  watch  the  outgoings  of  his 
life.  See  where  they  accumulate  ;  to  whom  they  be- 
long. 

I  know  that  this  is  extremely  favorable  to  the 
thought  I  am  illustrating  ;  for  the  world  of  mind  is, 
by  its  very  nature,  less  selfish  than  that  of  matter.  If 
a  man  coins  an  hour's  manual  labor  into  a  dollar,  he 
can  put  it  in  his  pocket ;  he  can  hide  it  in  the  earth  ; 


216      MINISTERING   TO   THE   GOOD   OF   OTHERS. 

he  can  keep  it  to  himself:  but  if  a  student  or  orator 
coins  his  activities  into  a  thought,  an  idea,  a  sentence, 
he  cannot  hide  it ;  he  cannot  keep  it  as  his  own. 
The  cloud  might  as  well  clamor  to  the  stream  to  give 
back  the  drop  that  fell  into  it  as  I  endeavor  an  hour 
hence  to  call  back  to  my  own  brain  the  impressions 
that  it  is  yielding  forth  to  you.  They  were  mine : 
they  are  yours.  They  cost  me  toil ;  but  I  cannot  claim 
them.  They  were  born  with  mental  travail ;  are 
truly  my  offspring  :  but  I  can  never  have  proprietor- 
ship even  in  my  own. 

No  matter  how  selfish  a  thinker  may  be,  nor  how 
egotistical  or  vain,  he  cannot  appropriate  himself. 
He  is  a  fountain  that  cannot  hold  itself.  Take  Web- 
ster. He  gained  honor,  office,  homage  ;  these  were 
his :  but  he  gave  to  America,  to  liberty,  to  us  all, 
more  than  he  gained  for  himself.  Take  Sumner,  take 
Wilson,  take  Phillips :  how  little  of  their  own  lives 
such  men  appropriate  !  How  little  can  they  own 
themselves  !  Can  Sumner  command  the  brave,  the 
heroic  sympathies  his  words  and  example  have  awa- 
kened ?  Can  Wilson  enrich  himself  with  what  he  has 
lavished  upon. a  nation  and  a  race,  —  the  simple  pur- 
pose, the  instinct  of  honesty,  the  wealth  of  self-im- 
posed poverty  ?  Can  he  whose  voice,  beyond  that  of 
any  other  man's,  has  preached  righteousness  to  this 
nation  for  thirty  years,  the  smallest  portion  of  whose 
enduring  fame  w^ill  be  that  he  is  the  most  consum- 
mate orator  America  has  yet  produced,  —  can  Phil- 
lips take  unto  himself,  can  he  carrj^  with  him  out  of 
the  world,  the  influence  of  his  words,  his  example,  his 


MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD   OF  OTHERS.       217 

life  ?  I  tell  you  nay.  These  men,  and  all  in  any  de- 
gree like  unto  them,  do  not  and  can  not  own  them- 
selves. If  they  have  enriched  themselves,  they  have 
enriched  mankind  more.  They  have  honored  us : 
they  have  honored  human  nature  beyond  what  we 
can  honor  them.  Their  labors,  their  toils,  their  strug- 
gles, even  their  glory,  have  passed  beyond  their  pos- 
session, beyond  their  control.  The  fountain  that 
had  a  locality  and  a  name  has  become  a  stream ;  and 
the  stream  is  emptied,  and  is  emptying  itself,  into  that 
vast  ocean  which  swells  forever,  and  shrinks  not ; 
whose  tides  will  one  day  circle  the  world ;  and  whose 
waves,  crested  with  airy  snow,  shall  break  in  music 
on  every  shore. 

Let  us  illustrate  this  with  another  instance.  A 
dozen  men  make  a  piano,  —  one,  one  part ;  another, 
some  other.  They  have  worked  in  different  propor- 
tions, and  have  received  proportionate  wages,  —  one, 
five  dollars ;  one,  twenty  dollars ;  a  third,  forty  dollars ; 
and  so  on.  They  worked  for  pay,  and  have  received 
it,  and  are  content.  Men  inquire  how  much  they  re- 
ceived for  their  work,  and  are  told.  They  do  not 
think,  they  do  not  question,  how  much  those  dozen 
mechanics  have  given  to  the  world.  And  what  have 
they  given  ?  Let  us  see.  The  piano  is  sold  :  a  father 
buys  it  for  his  children  :  it  is  carted  home.  Now, 
with  that  instrument,  music  has  gone  into  that  house. 
A  new,  a  perennial  fountain  of  pleasure,  of  profit,  of 
refinement,  of  consolation,  is  opened  in  the  centre  of 
that  family-circle.  When  mother  is  weary,  it  rests 
her ;   when  the   younger  children  are   turbulent,  it 

0 


218      MINISTEEING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHEES. 

quiets  them ;  when  father  comes  home  from  his  toil, 
worn  and  exhausted,  something  more  restful  than  sleep 
comes  forth  from  amidst  the  keys.  It  tinkles  merrily 
at  the  wedding-feast ;  it  assists  the  sabbath  hymn  ; 
it  rolls  forth  all  its  melodies  at  family  re-unions  ;  it 
cheers,  it  soothes,  it  refines,  it  elevates  ;  it  doubles  the 
charm  of  the  household-circle,  and  increases  beyond 
measure  the  salutary  influence  of  home.  You  see, 
friends,  that  even  the  common  day-laborer,  who  labors 
with  his  hands  only,  does  not  consume,  cannot  monop- 
olize, the  results  of  his  toil.  He  is  generous  in  spite 
of  himself,  as  it  were.  He  gives  to  others  more  than 
he  receives  himself. 

There  is,  then,  one  way  to  look  at  life,  at  your 
daily  work,  in  which  it  seems  dull,  prosaic,  unspirit- 
ual,  earthy.  Strive  as  you  may  to  lift  yourself,  your 
planning,  your  toil,  your  money-making,  shall  seem 
one  mass  of  selfishness  and  materialism.  And  the 
Devil  is  glad  to  have  you  look  at  it  in  that  way :  he 
rejoices  when  you  are  so  blind  that  j^ou  cannot  see 
the  threads  of  gold  and  amber  that  God  permits  us, 
by  every  good  purpose  of  our  hearts,  to  weave  into 
the  dull,  black  woof  of  earthly  effort.  And  many  of 
you,  I  dare  say,  have  more  than  once  exclaimed  men- 
tally, "  What  is  the  use  of  striving  to  be  spiritual- 
minded,  as  my  pastor  urges  ?  I  came  into  business 
when  a  boy.  I  put  myself  in  the  current  of  material 
gain  then.  My  whole  life  has  been  one  prolonged 
effort  of  selfishness."  That  is  one  way,  I  say,  to  look 
at  life.  There  may  be  some  truth  in  it;  and  I  trust 
you  will  profit  by  the  reflection. 


MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD   OF   OTHERS.      219 

But,  friend,  while  some  truth  lurks  in  such  a  feel- 
ing, if  your  life  has  been,  in  the  main,  honest,  there 
is  a  huQj-e  lie  in  such  a  statement.  Durinof-  all  the 
years  of  your  effort,  God  has  caused  you  to  uncon- 
sciously energize  along  the  line  of  beneficence.  You 
have  not  built  a  store,  erected  a  house,  constructed 
an  instrument  of  music,  invented  a  machine,  written 
a  book,  or  done  any  thing,  that  has  not  blessed  others 
more  than  yourself.  There  is  not  a  single  creation  of 
your  life  that  has  spent  all  the  forces  of  usefulness 
on  yourself.  You  have  been  like  the  clouds  that  send 
down  the  rain  :  you  could  not  number,  you  could 
not  direct,  the  drops  of  your  influence  ;  you  could  not 
gather  them  together,  and  brood  over  them,  and  say, 
"Behold,  these  are  all  mine  !"  And  I  hope  you  will 
all  devoutly  praise  God  that  you  have  lived  in  an  age 
and  land  so  far  advanced  toward  the  millennium  (when 
none  shall  lack,  and  all  shall  share  with  all),  that  self- 
ishness, in  its  old  inclusive  sense,  has  been  impossible 
to  you. 

But  let  me  solicit  that  you  go. one  step  farther  than 
this.  The  extraordinary  is  only  one  remove  from  the 
ordinary  in  goodness.  Add  to  this  unconscious  be- 
nevolence a  conscious  love  for  man  ;  a  conscious  desire 
to  give  your  life  for  others,  not  by  the  way  of  dying, 
but  by  the  use  you  make  of  living.  If  you  need 
an  example,  you  know  where  to  look.  I  do  not  refer 
to  Calvary :  there  is  where  Christ  died.  You  can 
never  die  as  he  died :  you  cannot  imitate  him  in  that 
direction.  But,  friend,  if  you  cannot  die  as  he  died, 
can  you  not  live  as  he  lived  ?     Behold  your  example 


220      MINISTERING  TO   THE   GOOD   OF  OTHERS. 

in  the  service  of  his  life  more  than  at  the  hour  of 
his  death.  If  you  cannot  ransom  any  one  by  dying 
for  him,  can  you  not  ransom  some  one  by  living  for 
him  ?  This  hope  it  is  which  should  hang  in  the 
heaven  of  your  life,  like  that  vesper  star,  which, 
amid  the  gathering  shadows  and  the  growing 
darkness,  sits  luminous  and  lambent,  alone  in  her 
evening  splendor,  queen  of  the  western  sky.  Say  to 
this  orb  of  hope,  "  Shine  on  me,  — shine  on  me  living, 
shine  on  me  dying, — that  all  my  life  may  be  passed  in 
thy  light,  and  all  my  consolation  derived  from  thy 
rays  at  death  ;  for,  so  living  or  dying,  I  shall  be  the 
Lord's." 

I  have  shown  you  that  you  are  unconsciously  be- 
nevolent ;  that  3^ou  are  daily  blessing  the  whole 
world  by  your  activities ;  and  you  all  see  it  to  be  true. 
I  ask  you  now  to  realize  it :  I  ask  you  to  let  the 
thought  have  its  full  effect  upon  you.  A  truth,  to  be 
potential,  must  be  apprehended.  The  only  way  to  be 
noble  in  your  industries  is  to  see  how  noble  they  are. 
Wh}',  friend,  the  part  you  gain  is  a  very  small  part 
of  the  grand  gain  of  your  life :  it  is  only  what  one 
note  is  to  an  anthem  ;  what  one  little  ray  is  to  that 
vast  body  of  light  which  to-day  illumines  the  world. 
Do  not  dwarf  yourself  when  your  stature  is  Godlike. 
How  insignificant  you  will  seem  to  yourself,  how  in- 
significant you  in  very  fact  are,  considered  in  such  a 
light !  Why,  what  does  my  life  mean  to  me  ?  what 
types  it  ?  Is  it  the  money  I  earn  ?  the  approbation 
or  applause  I  may  at  intervals  receive  ?  the  little  fame 
I  may  win  ?  —  barely  sufficient  to  keep  my  name  alive 


MINISTEKING  TO  THE   GOOD   OF   OTHERS.      221 

a  generation  after  I  am  gone.  Is  that  all  my  life 
means  ?  Do  I  gain  and  do  no  more  than  this  ?  I 
trust  I  shall  gain  more.  I  have  a  hope,  but  not  of 
that  kind.  I  will  not  degrade  myself  by  the  small- 
ness  of  such  an  ambition.  I  hope  to  be  mingled  amid 
the  unnamed  forces  of  the  universe,  and  thereby 
make  the  universe  my  debtor.  As  an  individual,  I  am 
nothing.  My  petty  gains  and  name  will  be  forgotten : 
whatever  I  hoard,  I  waste  ;  I  shall  retain  only  what 
I  scatter  abroad.  If  I  can  quicken  some  mind,  in  that 
quickening  my  intellect  shall  prolong  its  own  life. 
If  I  can  ease  some  burdened  heart,  my  own  will  gain 
immortal  rest.  If  I  can  teach  the  sense  of  power  hu- 
mility, and  link  imperious  strength  with  gentleness.; 
if  I  can  make  hastiness  patient,  and  seal  the  mur- 
murer's  lip  with  submissive  silence  ;  if  I  can  send  one 
single  ray  of  my  heaven-born  faith  into  the  darkened 
world  of  doubt,  or  show  the  infidel  that  it  is  more 
credulous  to  deny  than  to  believe  ;  if  I  can  bear  the 
inevitable  with  cheerfulness,  and  reconcile  myself  to 
that  I  may  not  change, — then  I  shall  be  content.  My 
name  may  be  forgotten,  my  grave  obliterated,  and 
those  whom  I  had  blessed  unconscious  that  I  ever 
lived ;  but  I  shall  still  live  on  among  the  ranks  and 
orders  of  beneficent  force,  a  needed  and  everlasting 
power. 

And  so,  my  friend,  it  is  with  you.  Never  limit  your 
ambition  by  the  material  and  the  temporal.  Be  not 
ambitious  touching  what  you  can  keep  :  be  emulous 
only  in  reference  to  what  you  can  send  abroad.  The 
life   you  find  you  shall  lose :    it  shall  slip  from  you 


222       MINISTERING   TO   THE   GOOD   OF   OTHERS. 

at  death,  and  you  shall  grope  forever  for  it,  in  vain, 
amid  the  stars.  I  look  about  me,  and  see  men  like 
eagles  walking.  There  is  no  stateliness  of  motion, 
there  is  no  dignity  of  poise,  in  all  their  movements. 
With  trailing  and  dishevelled  wings  they  drag  them- 
selves around,  soiling  the  pinions,  which,  being  spread, 
would  lift  them  to  the  sun.  Be  not  like  these. 
There  is  but  one  frame  for  the  picture  which  an  eagle 
makes,  when  with  vans  widespread,  and  vibrant  with 
buoyancy,  disdainful  of  the  earth,  with  flashing  eye 
that  looks  unflinchingly  at  the  noonday  sun,  he  hangs 
suspended  above  the  clouds,  a  blaze  of  dazzling  plu- 
mage :  it  is  the  wide  sweep  of  heaven,  and  the  all- 
encircling  blue.  And  so  there  is  but  one  frame  vast 
enough  to  include  the  human  soul  when  it  stands 
erect,  self-balanced,  majestic,  conscious  of  its  every 
power  and  full  destiny  :  it  is  eternity. 

This  is  the  life  I  would  have  you  live  ;  this  is  the 
perch  from  which  I  would  have  you  start  for  the  new 
year's  flight,  —  a  flight  high-aimed  enough  to  bring 
3^ou  nearer  heaven,  or  carry  you  into  it,  if  God  so  wills, 
before  the  year  shall  close.  Who  of  us  here  can  afford 
to  fly  a  lower  flight  ?  I  know  the  effort  it  will  take  ;  I 
know  the  atmospheric  pressures  we  must  bear  up 
against,  the  buffeting  of  whirlwinds  we  shall  meet, 
and  the  opposition  of  adverse  currents  we  must  stem. 
I  see  the  clouds  in  the  shadow  of  which  we  stand ; 
I  hear  the  roaring  storm  through  which  the  soul 
must  pass,  —  the  struggle,  and  the  tumult :  but  how 
slight,  how  unworthy  of  regard,  these  seem !  They 
melt,  they  fade  away,  they  disappear,  as  I  watch  the 


MINISTERING  TO   THE   GOOD   OF   OTHERS.       223 

spirit,  with  upturned  breast,  speeding  with  dauntless 
flight  straight  for  its  native  heaven,  leaving  behind  far 
in  its  wake  forever  the  storms  and  darkness  of  this 
lower  and  inconstant  world.  It  shall  find  cloudless 
skies  and  a  stormless  clime  amid  the  everlasting 
hills. 

I  ask  you,  my  hearer,  to  note  the  influence  of  such 
elevation  of  thought,  such  unselfishness  of  act,  upon 
yourself.  Nothing  hurts  a  man  more  than  to  seem 
small  and  ignoble  in  his  own  eyes.  It  is  the  slavish 
feeling  that  degrades  the  slave.  A  base  ambition 
makes  the  man  that  cherishes  it  base.  No  one  can 
debase  you  but  yourself.  Slander,  satire,  falsehood, 
injustice,  —  these  can  never  rob  you  of  your  manhood. 
Men  may  lie  about  you,  they  may  denounce  you,  they 
may  cherish  suspicions  manifold,  they  may  make  your 
failings  the  target  of  their  wit  or  cruelty :  never  be 
alarmed ;  never  swerve  an  inch  from  the  line  your 
judgment  and  conscience  have  chalked  out  for  you. 
They  cannot  by  all  their  efforts  take  away  your 
knowledge  of  yourself,  the  purity  of  your  motives, 
the  integrity  of  your  character,  and  the  generosity  of 
your  nature.  While  these  are  left,  you  are,  in  point 
of  fact,  unharmed.  Nothing  outside  yourself  can 
ever  make  you  smaller  than  you  are  to-day.  If  you 
shall  dwindle  ;  if  leanness  and  inability  shall  come  to 
any  faculty ;  if  you  shall  lose  what  makes  you  an 
ornament  to  that  rank  and  order  of  intelligence  to 
which  you  were  born, — the  loss  will  be  a  self-inflict- 
ed one.  Self-degradation  is  the  only  degradation  man 
can  know. 


224       MINISTEEING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHERS. 

But,  if  you  will  look  nobler  in  your  own  eyes  by 
such  a  course  of  action,  how  much  nobler  also  will 
you  stand  in  the  opinion  of  men  !  It  is  pleasant  to 
be  esteemed.  The  admiration  and  indorsement  of 
the  worthy  appeal  to  something  in  man  far  nobler 
than  vanity.  I  hope  you  all  desire  to  be  well  thought 
of  by  the  good.  He  who  cares  nothing  for  the  opin- 
ion of  others  is  not  one  to  receive  an  opinion  from. 
But  there  is  a  way  to  live  in  which  you  cannot  be 
esteemed.  You  can  live  so  that  men  will  despise 
you  and  hate  you  justly.  You  can  make  yourself 
the  embodiment  of  maxims  and  habits  so  wicked  and 
coarse,  you  can  be  so  sordid  and  mean  and  harsh  and 
unfair,  that  men  shall  have  no  feeling  toward  you 
but  that  of  contempt.  I  ask  you  to  live  an  opposite 
life  to  this.  I  ask  you  to  live  so  that  men  shall 
love  you.  Adopt  right  maxims  and  correct  habits. 
Be  so  generous  that  others  shall  become  generous, 
their  natures  kindled  by  the  inspiration  of  your  ex- 
ample. Lay  up  your  treasures  in  the  right  spot, 
lest  you  stand  poverty-stricken  in  the  day  of  your 
deepest  need.  In  order  to  seem  great  to  men,  be 
great. 

Interrogate  yourself,  friend.  What  sort  of  a  life 
are  you  living?  How  do  you  seem  to  yourself? 
What  is  the  judgment  others  would  put  upon  you  if 
they  knew  your  heart  ?  What  is  the  judgment  God 
puts  upon  you  ?  Has  a  hand  come  forth  from  the 
wall  ?  Are  the  characters  visible  ?  If  so,  what  are 
they  ?  Are  you  found  wanting  ?  If  you  are  lack- 
ing in  any  thing,  even  by  the  tithe  of  a  hair,  make 


MINISTERING  TO   THE   GOOD   OF   OTHERS,        225 

good  tlie  deficiency.  Make  it  good  here,  to-day,  in 
your  resolutions ;  make  it  good  in  every  day  of  the 
coming  year  in  your  acts. 

The  noblest  use  of  the  imagination,  the  highest 
service  it  can  render  a  man,  is  to  project  him  to  some 
point  down  the  future  from  which  he  can  look  back 
upon  his  life  as  already  lived,  and  estimate  the  result 
of  it.  I  ask  you  to  do  this  at  this  time.  Lift  your- 
self to  some  height,  and,  from  the  distance  of  a  hun- 
dred years  from  to-day,  look  back  upon  yourself. 
Are  you  such  a  man,  are  3'ou  such  a  woman,  as  you 
will  then  wish  you  had  been  ?  For  the  conditions 
of  your  lives  you  are  not  responsible  ;  these  were 
shaped  by  forces  outside  yourself,  and  beyond  your 
control :  but  at  heart,  in  the  aims,  purposes,  ambi- 
tions, and  hopes  of  your  lives,  are  you  living  as  an 
immortal  being  should  live  ?  Are  you  fl}' ing  high 
enough  to  drop  into  heaven,  should  death  check  you  in 
mid-career  ? 

This  is  what  I,  as  j^our  pastor,  call  spirituality.  It 
is  possible  to  all,  —  as  possible  in  the  store  as  the 
pulpit,  in  the  parlor  and  street  as  in  the  study.  This 
must  be  true,  or  spirituality  can  never  be  realized  on 
the  earth.  You  see  where  the  real  forces  of  the  world 
lie :  they  lie  at  the  roots  of  the  world.  Where  do 
the  forces  of  a  tree  lie?  Whence  come  its  leaves? 
whence  its  blossoms  ?  whence  its  fruitfulness  ?  They 
do  not  flutter  down  from  above;  they  are  not  hung 
in  rainbows  along  the  sky ;  they  are  not  flung  over 
it,  all  threaded  and  woven,  and  formed  like  a  mantle 
from  out  of  the  clouds :  they  lie  at  the  roots  of  the 
10* 


226      MINISTEKING  TO  THE  GOOD   OF  OTHERS. 

tree,  in  the  earth,  in  the  mould,  in  the  damp,  unlovely 
soil.  But  out  of  this  deadness  and  dampness,  when 
moved  upon  by  the  creative  energies,  come  fragrance 
and  loveliness,  and  such  fruiting  as  is  possible  to  it. 
So  it  is  with  men.  The  forces  of  their  lives  do  not 
exist  in  visible  beauty  at  first :  they  are  latent,  un- 
perceived ;  they  are  packed  in  with  the  muscles ; 
they  lie  seed-like  amid  unpublished  affections ;  they 
are  rolled  along  by  the  current  of  their  ambitions,  like 
diamonds  in  a  turbid  stream  ;  they  are  a  part  of  their 
forming  motives,  and  unbreathed  hopes,  and  crude, 
half-digested  plans.  The  angelic  does  not  appear  at 
once.  The  old  mythologies  teach  that  Minerva 
sprang  in  an  instant,  full  formed,  from  the  brain 
of  Jupiter.  That  was  a  beautiful  fable.  But  we  are 
talking  about  facts ;  and,  as  a  fact,  neither  wisdom 
nor  spirituality  comes  to  life  in  that  way.  They  are 
first  conceived ;  they  have  a  growth ;  they  come 
slowly  to  birth ;  then  they  linger  in  infancy,  and 
advance  to  their  maturity  —  to  their  full  stature  and 
splendor  of  appearance  —  by  degrees,  lingeringly.  God 
moves  over  you  leisurely,  you  see.  He  acts  as  one 
who  is  so  delighted  with  his  work,  that  he  must  ever 
and  anon  pause  in  it,  and  look  at  it,  and  enjoy  it.  He 
gives  the  plants  time  to  absorb  the  moisture  of  one 
shower  before  he  darkens  the  heavens  for  another. 
And  so  I  say  to  you  who  are  in  business-life  ;  who 
are  in  the  rush  of  gainful  pursuits ;  whose  career,  in 
itself  considered,  is  in  every  sense  sordid,  —  you  who 
represent  the  soil,  the  mould,  the  root-forces,  of  the 
world,  —  I  say  that  from  you  shall  come  up  the  best 


MINISTERING  TO  THE   GOOD  OF  OTHERS.       227 

spirituality  of  the  age.  Christianity,  in  the  person 
of  Christ,  was  born  related  to  labor.  In  his  youth 
she  was  apprenticed  to  a  trade.  She  took  one  of  her 
earliest  disciples  out  of  a  custom-house ;  a  physician 
was  her  best  historian ;  and  all  down  the  ages  her 
conflicts  and  triumphs  have  been  in  grappling  with 
the  material  and  selfish  forces  of  the  world,  and  over- 
coming them. 

Why,  look  ahead !  Run  your  eye  down  the  per- 
spective of  future  years.  As  wars  have  ceased,  has 
not  trade  multiplied  ?  Commerce  has,  for  her  father, 
intelligence  ;  and  for  her  mother,  peace.  As  the  one 
grows,  and  the  other  becomes  permanent,  will  not 
commerce  thrive  ?  In  the  rapid  material  development 
of  the  earth,  I  see  the  best  proof  that  the  millennium 
is  actually  coming  toward  us.  The  sun  has  not  yet 
risen ;  but  the  flush  on  the  sky  tells  from  what  point 
he  is  to  rise.  The  old  prophecy  expressed  the  idea 
when  it  foretold  a  day  when  "  the  sword  should  be 
beaten  into  a  ploughshare."  The  symbol  of  death 
and  wasting  was  to  become  a  symbol  of  life  and  accu- 
mulation. There  is  a  physical  as  truly  as  a  spiritual 
regeneration  going  on  by  divine  appointment.  He 
who  created  the  material  as  well  as  the  spiritual 
forces  of  the  globe  will  restore  both  alike  to  their 
pristine  position  and  pristine  harmony,  one  with  the 
other.  The  desert  shall  yet  bud,  and  blossom  as  the 
rose.  "  Instead  of  the  thorn  shall  come  up  the  fir- 
tree,  and  instead  of  the  brier  shall  come  up  the  myr- 
tle-tree." In  an  improved  agriculture,  draining  our 
marshes,  irrigating  our  deserts,  and  terracing  with 


228       MIKISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHERS. 

beauty  and  fruitfulness  our  now  sterile  hills,  shall 
the  old  predictions,  which  have  been  read  so  long  as 
poetry,  be  realized  at  last  in  fact. 

The  truest  triumph  of  Christianity  is  the  triumph 
of  the  spiritual  over  the  material.  If  it  cannot  illu- 
minate darkness  ;  if  it  cannot  make  the  dead  vital, 
and  the  gross  buoyant ;  if  it  cannot  straighten  what 
is  crooked  in  man's  nature  and  conduct,  and  make  the 
bitter  sweet,  —  then  it  will  be,  and  is,  a  failure  ;  for  to 
accomplish  precisely  this  is  its  confessed  mission. 

My  people,  the  days  of  life  are  not  on  one  level 
range :  the}^  stand  one  higher,  one  lower,  than  an- 
other. There  are  depressions  and  undulations  and 
slopes,  and  peaks  and  summits  from  whence  you  get 
a  mighty  vision.  There  are  days  adapted  to  our  vari- 
ous moods,  —  days  devoted  to  memory,  and  days  con- 
secrated to  hope.  There  are  days  when  one  naturally 
looks  backward,  and  stands  with  drooping  gaze,  and 
turns  his  ear  to  the  solemn  music  of  the  past.  Other 
days  there  are  that  command  a  large  perspective  ; 
and  man  looks  ahead  with  uplifted  vision,  and  hears 
the  lively  movement  of  joys  to  come.  AVe  stand  at 
this  moment  within  the  circle  of  such  a  day.  It  is 
the  last  sabbath  of  a  year  noAV  past.  In  it  what  ex- 
periences we  have  had  !  what  joys  and  agonies  and 
temptations  !  We  have  been  tested  as  men  who  take 
the  risk  of  death  to  escape  from  death.  We  have 
been  weaker  than  we  thought ;  we  have  been  stouter 
than  we  dreamed.  We  have  borne  what  we  thought 
would  kill  us ;  we  have  been  prostrated  by  what  we 
might  have  borne.    The  past  is  not  an  undotted  plain. 


MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHERS.       229 

there  are  arbors  in  it,  and  trellised  walks,  and  fra- 
grant borders  ;  to  many,  triumphal  columns,  and  here 
and  there  a  grave.  Nor  is  that  stretch  behind  us 
silent :  it  is  full  of  voices,  —  voices  of  pleading  and 
of  warning;  and  their  exhortation  will  never  cease 
to  sound. 

I  sat  last  week  beneath  Niagara,  when  the  sun 
lay  low  in  the  west,  and  sent  its  level  rays  against 
the  face  of  the  fall.  I  sat  upon  a  mighty  bowl- 
der of  ice  frozen  from  falling  spray,  within  twenty 
feet  of  the  vast  sheet  of  water  which  the  deep,  swift 
rapids  send  over  close  to  the  bank  on  the  American 
side :  I  sat,  I  say,  within  twenty  feet  of  the  down- 
plunging  mass,  which  strikes  the  bottom  with  so 
du'ect,  heavy,  and  continuous  a  blow,  that  it  shakes 
the  shore,  and  splits  the  very  air  asunder,  with  the 
concussions  of  its  power.  The  sun  called  home  his 
beams,  and  disappeared  behind  the  Canadian  hills ; 
the  brief  winter's  twilight  deepened  quickly  into 
darkness ;  the  white  mist  faded  from  sight,  and  the 
plunging  masses  of  Avater  became  invisible :  but 
still  from  out  the  gloom  the  cataract  sent  forth  its 
solemn  thunders,  and  the  darkness  shook  and  undu- 
lated as  shock  and  boom  swelled  forth  upon  the 
evening  air.  And  I  said  to  myself,  "  This  is  like  the 
voice  of  God,  that  sounds  the  same  by  day  or  night. 
His  warnings  fail  not,  and  his  solemn  exhortations 
never  cease." 

My  friends,  we  shall  move  on,  and  the  past  will 
retu'e  from  sight.  The  years  will  weave  their  dark- 
ness over  the  face  of  its  experiences,  and  much  that 


230      MINISTERING  TO  THE  GOOD  OF  OTHERS. 

now  is  vivid  will  grow  dim,  and  be  obscured ;  but 
the  lesson  of  its  experiences,  the  mysteries  in  self, 
nature,  and  God,  it  has  interpreted,  the  voice  of  its 
warnings  and  exhortations,  will  never  be  silenced. 
By  day  and  night  they  will  be  heard :  they  will 
swell  around  us  in  solemn  and  majestic  cadence,  like 
the  inrolling  surf  upon  a  distant  shore.  The  future 
will  interpret  the  past :  what  we  shall  feel  will  reveal 
God's  motive  in  what  we  have  felt ;  what  now  is 
harsh  will  be  attuned ;  and  that  which  to-daj^  is  fitful, 
and  out  of  tune,  will  be  brought  to  the  measure  of  a 
perfect  movement ;  and  all,  at  last,  assorted  and  com- 
bined, each  note  distributed  upon  the  proper  line,  will 
make  the  finished  and  divinely-conceived  anthem  of 
our  lives. 


SABBATH  MORNING,  JAN.  7,  1872, 


SERMON. 


SUBJECT- NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 
"Without  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission."— Heb.  ix.  22. 

I  HAVE  been  requested  many  times  since  last 
sj)ring,  both  verbally  by  members  of  my  own 
church  and  by  strangers  through  correspondence,  to 
make  a  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement 
as  held  by  the  evangelical  churches,  and  to  set  forth, 
in  plain,  direct  language,  the  reason  and  necessity 
of  it  as  they  stand  shaped  in  my  own  mind.  This  I 
will  now  attempt  to  do.  I  do  it  at  this  time  because 
it  may  chance  that  I  shall  not  by  and  by  have  it  in 
my  power  to  lay  the  statement  before  you  in  such  a 
way  as  shall  give  you  an  opportunity  of  reviewing 
leisurely  and  with  care  what  I  might  advance.  It  is 
only  when  the  eye  and  the  ear  are  both  enlisted  in 
her  service,  and  steadying  her  on  either  side,  that  the 
human  understanding  moves  along  the  path  of  knowl- 
edge with  speed  and  safety. 

It  is  evident  to  all,  at  a  glance,  that,  to  a  Christian 
or  an  honest  student  of  the  New  Testament,  there 
can  be  no  subject  of  inquiry  equal  in  interest  to  this 

231 


232  NEED   OF  AN   ATONEMENT, 

of  the  atonement.  This  doctrine  is  the  centre  and 
sun  of  our  religious  system.  All  other  doctrines  are 
only  satellites  grouped  around  it.  Whatever  gran- 
deur of  motion  they  have,  the  propulsion  comes  to 
them  from  it;  whatever  radiance  illuminates  their 
orbs  is  only  a  dim  reflection  caught  from  its  out- 
streaming  and  inexhaustible  glory.  From  the  sum- 
mit of  Calvary  you  overlook  the  whole  field  of  evan- 
gelical truth,  as  the  traveller  sees  at  one  sweep  of  his 
eye  from  the  summit  of  a  mountain  all  the  circum- 
jacent plains.  Whatever  a  man  cannot  see  when  he 
stands  with  his  arm  clasped  around  the  cross,  looking 
out  upon  human  life  and  up  to  God's  nature,  he  will 
never  see  until  he  sees  "  face  to  face." 

There  were  two  obstacles  to  man's  salvation,  which 
made  an  atonement  a  necessity.  The  one  arose 
from  his  relation  to  the  divine  government;  the 
other,  from  his  inherent  spiritual  condition.  The  first 
obstacle  was  that  which  the  honor  of  the  divine  law, 
that  had  been  openly  and  defiantly  transgressed,  op- 
posed, —  an  obstacle  that  could  not  be  set  aside  until 
some  equivalent  for  that  should  be  found,  which,  on 
natural  and  judicial  grounds,  would  be  acceptable  to 
it :  the  second  obstacle  was  the  enmity  of  the  human 
heart  to  God. 

These  were  the  two  obstructions  which  men's  sin- 
fulness had  heaved  up  in  their  path  heavenward. 
How  could  they  be  removed?  These  were  what 
constituted  the  awful  chasm,  along  the  verge  of  which 
such  of  the  race  as  were  not  too  much  debauched  to 
think  were  running  with  sharp  interrogations ;  with 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  233 

tossing  of  hands,  and  not  seldom  quick,  piercing  cries 
for  help.  How  could  the  chasm  be  bridged  ?  There  is 
nothing  sadder  nor  more  suggestive  than  the  patient  yet 
nervous  looking  of  the  world  for  a  Saviour  long  years 
before  he  came.  They  were  as  those  who  watch  the 
night  through,  dying  just  before  the  dawn.  But  God 
knoweth  his  own ;  and  such  as  longed  for  Christ,  and 
knew  him  only  in  their  longings,  know  him  now  face 
to  face.  They  lived  by  the  measure  of  light  they 
had ;  and  now  they  walk  in  the  light  of  glory.  They 
were  faithful  over  a  few  things ;  and  now  God  has 
lifted  them  up,  and  made  them  rulers  over  many 
things. 

You  see,  my  friends,  that  neither  of  these  two  ob- 
stacles to  man's  salvation  could  or  can  be  removed 
by  man.  The  obstacle  opposed  by  the  law  could  not, 
because  no  repentance  and  reformation  on  the  part 
of  the  criminal  could  of  themselves  restore  and  sus- 
tain the  honor  of  it.  The  law  has  a  claim  which  the 
repentance  of  the  transgressor  cannot  meet.  No 
judge  accepts  the  tears  and  grief  of  the  arraigned 
person  as  satisfactory  before  the  law.  It  is  not  in 
the  nature  of  grief  to  make  legal  atonement.  The 
principles  of  public  justice  refuse  to  acknowledge  such 
moods  and  states  of  feeling  as  equivalent  to  punish- 
ment. And  who  is  ready  to  say  that  what  cannot 
satisfy  a  petty  police  regulation  should  satisfy  divine 
government  ?  Who  is  ready  to  say  that  God  is  bound 
to  receive  what  a  city  justice  cannot  for  a  moment 
think  of  accepting  as  an  equivalent  for  the  sentence  ? 
What  weak  and  shameful  conceptions  of  the  Divine 


234  NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

Being  some  men,  influenced  by  their  prejudices,  have ! 
And  what  can  be  weaker  or  more  illogical  than  to 
insist  that  God,  for  the  sa^e  of  pardoning  a  few  crimi- 
nals who  neither  desire  pardon,  nor  would  be  bet- 
tered by  it,  must  disregard  every  principle  of  juris- 
prudence, and  conduct  his  court  in  such  a  way,  as, 
were  it  imitated  by  your  city  judges,  would  exorcise 
justice,  and  the  very  ones  appointed  to  protect  it  would 
make  law  here  a  by- word  of  contempt,  and  place  your 
lives  and  property  at  the  mercy  of  murderers  and 
thieves  ? 

I  trust  that  all  of  you,  especially  you  who  are 
thinking  about  reforming  your  lives  and  becoming 
Christians,  will  see  that  repentance  and  reformation 
alone  cannot  save  you.  The  reason  is,  (and  what  is 
plainer  ?)  because  such  do  not  satisfy  the  law.  They 
do  not  cover  your  past  transgressions ;  they  do  not 
allow  the  judge  to  acquit  you.  Your  position,  remem- 
ber, before  God,  is  that  of  a  criminal :  you  are  a  law- 
hreaher.  For  years  you  have  been  notoriously  such. 
Transgression  has  been  the  habit  of  your  life,  —  so 
much  of  a  habit,  that  you  do  not  realize  the  enormity 
of  individual  acts.  The  law  has  at  last  seized  hold 
of  you.  You  are  arrested  in  your  conscience.  The 
first  question  with  you,  friend,  to  consider,  is,  "  How 
can  I  satisfy  the  law's  demand  ?  "  Never  mind  about 
the  feelings  of  the  judge ;  no,  nor  your  own  feelings : 
your  feelings  will  never  save  you,  whatever  they  are. 
Ascertain  just  what  is  demanded  of  you  by  the  law, 
and  satisfy  it.  Until  you  do  this,  all  other  efforts,  as 
you  see,  however  well  meant,  however  earnestly 
pushed,  will  be  in  vain. 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  235 

But,  my  hearers,  if  repentance  and  reformation 
cannot  sustain  and  restore  the  honor  of  the  law, 
how,  seeing  that  these  are  the  utmost  you  can  do, 
can  you  of  yourselves  remove  the  obstacle  which  the 
law  opposes  to  your  salvation  ?  How  can  you  be  ac- 
quitted when  the  judge  assures  you  that  what  you 
offer  as  the  equivalent  of  your  punishment  is  not  an 
equivalent  ?  But  by  so  much  as  you  cannot  offer 
what  is  acceptable  yourself,  by  so  much  as  you  can- 
not remove  the  obstacle,  some  one  must  remove  it 
for  you,  or  it  will  remain  to  your  dying  day. 

You  all  agree  with  me  in  this.  You  have  gone 
with  me  step  by  step  as  we  proceeded,  and  stand 
essentially  in  the  same  position  as  I  occupy ;  and  you 
see  how  honest  and  pertinent  is  this  question :  If 
you  cannot  save  yourselves,  and  will  not  allow 
another  to  be  your  savior,  how  can  you  be  saved  ? 
If  the  law  presents  a  claim  against  you  which  you 
cannot  satisfy,  and  you  will  permit  no  one  to  meet 
it  for  you,  what  will  be  the  consequences  ? 

The  second  obstacle,  which,  if  I  may  so  speak,  God 
experienced  in  his  endeavors  to  save  offenders  against 
his  government  from  the  punishment  they  deserved, 
was  the  enmity  of  the  human  heart.  The  race  were 
not  merely  offenders,  but  they  were  persistent  and 
bitter  in  their  offence.  They  were  so  arrogant,  so 
set  and  determined  in  their  hostility,  that  they 
refused  every  overture  of  the  government  looking 
toward  their  pardon,  and  restoration  to  forfeited 
rights.  This  obstacle,  also,  man  can  never  remove  ; 
and  the  reason  is,  that  enmity  will  never  change  it- 


236  NEED   OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

self  into  allegiance.  Enmity  does  not  desire  change. 
Filled  with  it,  a  man  drifts  upon  the  current  of  his 
hostility,  borne  whithersoever  it  tends.  Acidity  can 
never  sweeten  itself :  it  must  be  mingled  with  and 
operated  upon  by  other  elements,  or  its  bitterness 
remains.  If  it  is  susceptible  of  growth,  its  growth 
is  always  in  multiplication  of  itself.  It  changes  only 
to  change  the  degree  of  its  intensity.  Granted  that 
there  exists  a  single  evil  tendency  in  j'our  heart,  my 
friend  :  and  the  statement,  that  no  check,  no  better- 
ment, will  come  to  you  until  you  are  operated  upon 
from  without,  carries  with  it  the  force  of  a  demon- 
stration :  for  to  say  that  evil  will  change  itself  is  to 
say  that  it  will  destroy  the  coherence  of  its  own 
constitution  acting  against  itself.  If  the  thorn-bush 
shall  ever  yield  upon  the  air,  and  to  the  hand  of 
man,  the  fragrance  and  fruitfulness  of  the  peach,  it 
will  be  because  it  has  been  grafted  upon,  and  its 
natural  qualities  overpowered  by  a  new  and  higher 
order  of  productiveness.  An  infusion  of  sweeter 
sap  must  vitally  change  the  character  of  its  natural 
circulation  or  ever  it  shall  reward  the  nourishing 
hand. 

The  obstacle  which  the  death  of  Christ  removed 
was  not,  as  you  see,  the  lack  of  disposition  on  the 
part  of  God  to  save  men,  as  some  seem  to  suppose. 
Some,  even  in  their  prayers,  allude  to  the  death  of 
Christ  as  if  it  wrought  some  great  change  in  the 
feelings  of  God  toward  the  race  ;  as  if  it  pacified 
him,  and  made  him  more  amiable  ;  as  if  it  quickened 
his  mercy,  swept  the  frowns  from  his  brow,  and  made 


AND   WHY  NEEDED.  237 

it   natural  for  him  to  smile  on  us.     They  seem  to 
think  that  God  was  unwilling  to  save,  determined 
and   anxious   to   punish,  until   Christ   came.     They 
talk  as  if  the  atonement  was  necessary  in  order  to 
avert  the   wrath  of  God  as  a  personal  feeling  from 
the  race,   and  thus   give   occasion  for  that  insolent 
and  impious   inquiry,  "Is  God   such  an   implacable 
being,   that  his  own  Son  had  to  immolate  himself 
before  he  would  be  appeased  ?  "     What  an  error  is 
this  I     What  saith  the  Scripture  ?     "  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only -begotten  Son,  that  who- 
soever believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting   life."      If  you  would   see   the   love   of 
the  Father,  look  at  Calvary.     If  there  is  any  thing 
precious  in  your  faith,  fellow-Christian,  if  any  thing 
auspicious  in  your  hope,  if  the    Gospels  yield  any 
consolation,  if  piety  a   single  comfort,  remember  that 
you  owe  it  all  to  your  heavenly  Father.      Christ  did 
not  bribe  him  to  love  yoxx.     He  loved  us  as  much 
before  Christ  came  as  he  loves  us  since.     Nay,  it  was 
his  love  that   gave  us  Christ.     It  was   his  wisdom 
which  devised,  as  it  is  his  power  which  applies  to  our 
salvation,  the  atonement  plan.     No  :  the  death  of  the 
Son  quickened  no  previously  unfelt  pity  in  the  Father's 
bosom  ;  it  wrought  no  transformation   in  Jehovah's 
feelings ;  it  changed  no  principle  of  his  government ; 
it  gave  no  latent  and  unexercised  sentiment  expression. 
He  is  no  better  friend,  no  truer  helper,  now,  than  he 
would  have  been  had  the  Saviour  never  died.     Lack 
of  disposition  to  save  on  the  part  of  God  was  not  the 
obstacle  to  be  overcome 


238  NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

Nor,  in  the  second  place,  was  it  the  literal  claims 
of  the  penal  law  which  constituted  the  obstacle.  The 
atonement  was  not  a  commercial  transaction,  —  so 
much  paid,  so  much  due  :  for,  if  it  were,  then  would 
it  be  necessary  for  us  to  show  that  the  sufferings  of 
Christ  were,  in  the  first  place,  equal  in  extent  to  the 
sufferings  of  those  whom  he  redeemed  ;  that  is,  that 
Christ  actually  suffered  as  much  in  his  own  person  as 
the  race  itself  would  have  suffered  had  they  been  left 
to  bear  individually  the  punishment  themselves.  But 
he  would  be  a  bold  man  who  should  claim  ability  to 
analyze  the  suffering  of  Christ,  and  balance  it  against 
its  equivalent  of  human  agony,  such  as  might  come 
on  sinners  for  punishment  of  their  sins.  Again :  this 
theory  would  make  it  necessary  that  Jesus  should 
endure  not  only  the  same  aggregate  amount  of  suffer- 
ing as  those  he  redeemed  would  have  borne  if  not  de- 
livered from  the  law,  but  also  that  he  should  endure 
the  same  kind  of  suffering.  But  this  is,  in  every 
sense,  an  impossibility  ;  because  no  one  who  is  not  a 
sinner  himself  can  endure  the  same  kind  of  suffering 
as  the  sinner ;  and  Christ,  being  sinless,  might  nei- 
ther experience  remorse  nor  any  other  painful  result 
of  sin.  Thus  you  see  that  it  was  not  the  literal  claim 
of  the  law  which  Christ  met.  This  was  not  the  ob- 
stacle he  removed.  The  atonement  was  not  a  com- 
mercial transaction  ;  and,  when  Christ  is  spoken  of  as 
paying  our  debts,  it  is  not  in  the  literal  sense,  as  I 
have  explained. 

"  Well,"  I  hear  you  say,  '4f  neither  of  these  was 
the  obstacle  to  man's  salvation  that  Christ  removed. 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  239 

what  was  the  obstacle  ?     Please  put  it  so  that  I  can 
understand  it." 

I  will  try.     You  remember  the  story  of  Darius  and 
Daniel.      The  illustration  is  not  original  with  me. 
You  will  find  it  in  many  books,  and  perhaps   have 
heard  it  from  the  pulpit  before.     I  use  it  because  it 
is  apt.     You  remember  the  peculiarity  in  the  Persian 
polity,  which  made  it  impossible  for  any  in  the  king- 
dom to  change  a  decree.     Once  spoken,  it  must  re- 
main.    The  Persian  government  resembled  the  gov- 
ernment of  God  in  this  respect,  —  its  decrees  were 
unchangeable.     It   needs   infinite  wisdom   and  infi- 
nite love  to  inaugurate  such  a  government.     Where 
a  law  cannot  be  changed  or  withdrawn,  it  requires 
omniscience  to  frame  it,  else  it  may  prove  a  curse,  and 
recoil  on  its  maker.     This  was  the  case  in  respect  to 
Darius  and  Daniel.     Darius,  instigated  by  the  ene- 
mies of  Daniel,  had  made  a  decree  which  Daniel,  as 
his  foes  knew,  was  in  conscience  bound  to  break.    He 
did  break  it.      His  transgression  was    swiftly  pub- 
lished to  the  king,  and  the  transgressor's  punishment 
demanded.     Now,  Darius  loved  Daniel,  and  was  loath 
to  order  his  death.     But  there  was  the  decree.     It 
had  been  broken.     The  king  could  not  set  it  aside. 
It  was  unchangeable.     He  could  not  fly  in  the  face  of 
the  most  cherished,  most  reverenced,  most  insisted  on, 
principle  of  his  government.    Observe  the  dilemma,  — 
the  obstacle  to  Daniel's  pardon.     It  was  not  lack  of 
desire  on  the  part  of  the  king  :    every  desire   of  his 
heart  was  to  save  him.     It  was  not  because  he  was 
hard-hearted  :    every  sentiment    of    his  bosom  was 


240  NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

only  of  mercy.  What,  then,  tvas  the  obstacle  ?  It 
was  this :  It  was  the  want  of  an  honorable  medium  for 
the  expression  of  mercy ^  consistent  with  the  character  of 
the  government  and  the  honor  of  the  law.  He  wanted 
to  pardon ;  but  how  could  he  pardon  ?  He  "  set  his 
heart  on  delivering;"  but  how  could  he  deliver? 
There  was  no  way  in  which  his  mercy  might  be  exer- 
cised without  doing  violence  to  the  decree.  There 
was  no  medium  through  which  love  might  find  ex- 
pression without  disregard  of  the  law.  All  day,  the 
kind-hearted  king  meditated  ;  yea,  to  the  going-down 
of  the  sun,  he  studied  how  to  deliver  Daniel ;  but  all 
in  vain.  He  could  find  no  equivalent,  which,  being 
substituted  in  the  place  of  Daniel's  death,  would 
meet  the  demand  of  the  unchangeable  law,  and  j^et 
release  the  condemned.  But,  my  hearers,  behold 
now  the  excellence  of  God  over  men.  Adore  the 
wisdom  which  is  never  baffled,  never  inadequate. 

How  accurately,  in  respect  to  essentials,  does  this 
historic  incident  illustrate  the  atonement !  Had 
Daniel  been  guilty,  the  parallel  would  have  been  com- 
plete. The  race  had  transgressed.  An  unchangeable 
decree  had  gofeie  forth,  that  the  transgressors  should 
die.  The  whole  universe  had  heard  it.  Heaven  and 
hell  both  felt  that  the  honor  of  the  law  was  at  stake. 
Still  God  loved  the  race;  his  heart  yearned  over 
them  in  mercy  ;  he  longed  to  save.  But  there  stood 
the  law :  it  had  been  transgressed.  Inflexible,  and 
inflexibly  just,  it  demanded  its  due.  As  in  the  case 
of  Darius,  the  obstacle  was  not  the  lack  of  disposi- 
tion, but  of  a  medium  through  which  mercy  might 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  241 

be  expressed  consistent  with  the  demand  of  the  law. 
What  was  needed  was  an  equivalent  before  the  law  to 
the  death  of  the  condemned,  — a  substitution  equally 
honorable  and  satisfactory  to  it.  Darius  searched  in 
vain.  To  the  going-down  of  the  sun  he  labored  to  no 
purpose  :  he  could  find  no  equivalent.  But  God  was 
not  to  be  thwarted  in  his  benevolent  intentions.  He 
looked  into  his  own  fold,  and  found  there  a  "  Lamb  " 
of  burnt-offering.  In  Christ,  in  his  life  and  death, 
the  law  beheld  and  acknowledged  an  equivalent. 
If  he  would  take  the  place  of  the  condemned,  if  he 
would  bear  the  penalty  in  their  behalf,  the  demand 
of  the  law  would  be  fully  met,  and  the  obstacle  that 
the  decree  offered  to  man's  pardon  be  removed. 

It  was  removed :  an  equivalent  had  been  found. 
God  might  now  pardon,  and  not  contradict  himself. 
Angels  saw  the  glorious  possibility  it  opened  up  to 
the  race,  and  congratulated  the  earth  with  celestial 
song.  They  did  not  and  could  not  foresee  that  man 
would  refuse  to  be  at  peace  with  God.  Sympathetic 
with  human  betterment  as  they,  were,  they  never  sus- 
pected, they  never  dreamed,  that  any  would  reject 
the  salvation  made  possible  at  such  a  sacrifice.  They 
never  imagined,  friend,  that  you  would  refuse  a  par- 
don which  God  had  been  at  such  effort  and  cost  to 
offer  you  :  if  they  had,  astonishment,  grief,  and  right- 
eous indignation,  would  have  checked  their  jubilant 
flight,  and  silenced  their  happy  tongues  in  mid- 
utterance  of  their  joyful  song. 

Observe  and  fix  well  in  mind  what  the  atonement, 
the  death  of  Christ,  did,  and  what  it  did  not  do.  It 
11 


242  NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

did  not  pardon  any  one  :  it  only  made  it  possible  for 
God  to  pardon.  It  did  not  remove  the  second  obsta- 
cle to  man's  salvation  (which,  you  remember,  I  said 
was  the  enmity  of  the  human  heart)  ;  for  it  left  the 
human  heart  unchanged.  Men  hated  God  as  bit- 
terly after  Christ  died  as  they  did  before.  The  natu- 
ral heart  is  as  rebellious  to-day  as  it  ever  was.  But 
it  did  do  this :  it  removed  the  first  obstacle ;  viz., 
the  opposition  which  the  transgressed  law  offered  to 
man's  salvation.  It  provided  a  medium  through 
which  God  could  express  his  mercy  to  us,  and  not 
disregard  his  own  decrees.  It  furnished  to  the  law 
an  equivalent  to  the  punishment  of  the  criminal,  and 
hence  made  it  possible  for  God  to  remain  "just,  and 
yet  justify  the  unjust."  So  far,  it  is  a  success.  Wheth- 
er a  single  soul  is  saved  or  not,  the  atonement  is  not  a 
failure.  If  any  are  saved,  it  is  because,  by  the  exer- 
cise of  his  wisdom,  God  has  taken  the  obstacles  out  of 
the  way.  If  any  are  lost,  it  is  not  because  the  hinder- 
ances  remain  unremoved,  but  because  they  themselves 
refuse  to  be  benefited  by  the  removal.  The  obstruc- 
tions which  your  own  sins  heave  up  in  your  path  are 
removed,  and  a  free,  open  way  has  been  for  years 
inviting  you  to  traverse  it  toward  heaven.  Who 
beside  yourselves  are  to  be  blamed  if  you  refuse  to 
walk  therein  ? 

Allow  me  at  this  point  to  remark  briefly  upon  the 
relation  of  the  atonement  to  the  pardoning  power. 

Some  men  say,  as  you  know,  that  Christ  having 
died,  an  atonement  having  been  made,  therefore 
God  is  now  compelled  to  pardon.     Salvation,  being 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  243 

purchased  in  Christ,  is  now  something  due  to  the 
race.  This  and  kindred  errors  spring  from  a  con- 
fused idea  of  what  the  death  of  Christ  did  and  did  not 
accompHsh,  and  especially  of  its  relation  to  the  exer- 
cise of  the  pardoning  power.  Now,  the  death  of 
Christ  accomplished  simply  this :  it  answered  the  ends 
of  a  good  government  in  such  a  way  that  the  govern- 
ment was  at  liberty  to  pardon  offenders  in  what  way, 
and  on  tuhat  terms,  it  might  please, 

I  cannot  better  illustrate  this  point  than  by  a  ref- 
erence to  our  late  national  experiences. 

What  did  the  Union  armies  accomplish  ?  that  is,  in 
what  position  did  their  achievements  put  the  govern- 
ment ?  Why,  eminently  this :  they  put  the  govern- 
ment in  a  position  to  pardon  without  loss  of  honor. 
Before  the  rebellion  was  suppressed,  when  it  stood 
in  successful  hostility  to  the  government,  govern- 
ment was  in  no  position  to  make  overtures.  The 
very  success  of  the  rebellion  was  the  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  the  exercise  of  the  pardoning  power.  To 
extend  pardon  to  such  as  were  in  successful  and  defi- 
ant revolt  was  but  an  idle  effort,  —  an  exhibition  of 
weakness,  calculated  to  call  forth  derision  and  multi- 
plied hostility.  But  when  the  rebellion  was  over- 
thrown ;  when  its  armies  were  scattered,  its  chief  a 
prisoner,  its  president  a  fugitive,  its  weakness  con- 
fessed ;  when  the  court  to  which  they  had  appealed 
had  decided  against  them  ;  when  they  yielded  them- 
selves up,  and  took  the  position  of  defeated  parties,  — 
then  it  was  that  the  government  might,  with  honor 
to  itself,  extend  pardon  ;  then,  without  loss  of  dig- 


244  NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

nity,  and  a  fair  prospect  of  doing  good,  it  might  make 
merciful  overtures. 

But  is  there  any  one  here  who  will  say,  that,  because 
the  government  might  do  this,  it  was  hound  to  do  it  ? 
Is  there  any  one  who  will  claim  that  the  disloyal 
South  had  any  claim  u]3on  the  government's  mercy  ? 
Or  will  any  one  say  that  the  war  for  the  Union, 
the  perpetuation  of  the  government,  the  vindication 
of  national  authority,  was  all  in  vain,  unless  all  the 
rebels  were  pardoned,  and  restored  to  their  former 
rights  and  privileges  ?  No :  the  war  was  a  success 
if  not  a  rebel  should  be  converted  to  loyalty.  If, 
through  their  persistent  hostility,  not  one  had  accept- 
ed the  merciful  overtures  of  the  government,  still 
would  the  war  find  ample  vindication.  If  every  offer 
the  nation  might  make  should  be  rejected,  still  its 
exhibition  of  mercy  would  not  be  lost. 

Like  to  this,  as  I  conceive,  is  the  relation  of  the 
atonement  to  the  government  of  God,  and  its  atti- 
tude toward  a  rebellious  race.  The  death  of  Christ 
put  no  necessity  on  God  to  forgive.  So  with  the 
national  government :  how  many  should  be  forgiven, 
what  ones  should  be  forgiven,  what  evidence  should 
be  demanded  to  show  that  any  were  fit  sub- 
jects of  leniency,  were  matters  over  which  the  rebels 
themselves  had  no  control.  Theirs  was  not  the  part 
of  dictation,  —  of  telling  the  government  what  it  must 
and  must  not  do,  insisting  on  a  right  to  be  forgiven  and 
restored.  Rights!  — the  rebellious  have  no  rights. 
They  forfeit  before  the  law  all  rights  and  privileges 
when  they  go  into  rebellion.     Is  there  a  man  here,  in 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  245 

moral  rebellion  to  any  law  of  God,  who  can  demand 
pardon  of  God  as  a  right  ?  No.  Because  a  govern- 
ment has  by  its  own  efforts  removed  the  obstacle 
which  forbade  the  exercise  of  the  pardoning  power, 
and,  against  every  endeavor  of  those  for  whom  it 
wrought,  made  it  possible  to  grant  pardon,  a  pretty 
position  truly  is  it  to  take,  that  therefore  it  is  hound 
to  pardon!  There  is,  therefore,  as  you  all  see,  no 
ground  for  such  a  theory  as  some  hold.  God  is  no 
more  bound  to  pardon  a  man  now  than  he  would  be 
if  the  Saviour  had  never  died.  Salvation  is  not  a  debt 
due  us,  but  a  "  free  gift,"  to  which  we  have  not  the 
shadow  of  a  claim.  The  death  of  Christ  simply  re- 
moved one  of  the  two  obstacles  in  the  way  of  mercy, 
and  so  far  made  it  possible  for  mercy  to  be  exer- 
cised: this,  and  nothing  more.  Whether  you  will 
be  forgiven  depends  upon  the  state  of  your  feel- 
ings toward  the  government  of  God.  If  God,  look- 
ing into  your  heart,  sees  that  it  has  repented  of  its 
rebellion,  has  thrown  down  its  arms  and  left  the 
ranks  of  his  enemies,  and  is  desirous  of  renewing  its 
loyal  relations  to  him,  he  will,  upon  the  basis  of 
that  change  in  you,  doubtless  make  out  a  pardon,  and 
restore  jou  to  the  privileges  of  heavenly  citizenship. 
But  if  he  looks,  and  sees  in  you  notliing  but  hostility 
and  indifference,  absence  of  respect  for  his  person, 
and  reverence  for  his  law,  and  a  desire  to  continue 
in  your  rebellion,  you  will  go  down  to  your  house  as 
yon  came  up,  an  unpardoned  rebel  before  God.  Nor 
will  the  atonement  suffer  loss  because  of  your  loss : 
whether  you  are  saved  or  not,  whether  any  in  the 


^46  NEED   OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

race  be  saved  or  not,  the  death  of  Christ,  in  satisfac- 
tion of  divine  law,  to  vindicate  divine  authority,  to 
make  salvation  possible,  to  reveal  the  love  of  God 
and  the  wisdom  of  the  Most  High,  will  remain  the 
marvel  and  admiration  of  the  universe.  Although 
every  Southerner  had  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance, yet  the  war  in  defence  of  the  government 
would  not  have  been  a  failure  :  neither  our  money 
would  have  been  lavished,  nor  our  blood  shed,  in  vain. 
And  so,  though  not  a  human  soul  had  accepted  the 
provision  of  the  atonement,  the  atonement  would  not 
have  been  a  failure.  Through  it  the  universe  would 
have  seen  the  nature  of  God  as  never  before  revealed. 
Through  it  the  principles  of  divine  government  were 
enunciated,  and  an  appeal  made  to  man,  —  an  op- 
portunity given  to  the  race  such  as  might  silence  all 
whispers  and  cavil  forever. 

The  atonement  is  thus  seen  to  be,  not  the  'procuring 
cause  of  salvation,  but  the  inedium  through  which  it 
is  secured.  The  love  of  God  is  the  cause,  and  the  only 
cause,  of  salvation  to  any ;  and  the  death  of  Christ  is 
the  medium  through  which  he  can,  in  a  way  honor- 
able to  the  law,  express  that  love  to  our  redemption. 
There  is  not  a  man,  there  is  not  a  woman,  there  is  not 
a  youth,  —  I  care  not  how  widely  you  have  wandered, 
I  care  not  how  deeply  you  have  sinned,  nor  how  strong 
has  been  your  rebellion,  —  in  this  audience,  at  this 
moment,  to  whom  God  in  his  love  does  not  come  and 
offer  forgiveness  through  the  blood  of  Christ.  "  Only 
drop  your  hostility,  only  forego  your  rebellion,  only 
throw  down  your  arms,  only  utter  a  cry,  only  make  a 


AND  WHY   NEEDED.  247 

sign,"  he  says,  "  and  I  will  pardon  you  here  and  now." 
This  is  the  love  of  God  to  you,  my  hearer.  Was 
there  ever  love  like  unto  it  ?  Think  of  your  life,  — 
your  life  of  neglect,  your  life  of  indifference,  your 
life  of  opposition,  —  and  then  tell  me  if  you  have  ever 
known  in  father  or  mother,  in  husband  or  wife,  in 
any  friend,  living  or  dead,  a  love  to  be  compared  with 
this  love.  There  are  faces  back  of  me,  over  which, 
as  they  sleep,  the  evergreens  wave  to-day.  There 
are  faces  which  nightly  by  the  side  of  couches,  and  in 
the  flush  of  morning,  are  lifted  to  heaven  for  me  in 
prayer  ;  they  express  for  me  all  that  the  human  heart 
may  feel  of  solicitude  and  love :  yet  in  the  face  of 
Him,  who  lifteth  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon 
me  as  I  speak,  I  behold  the  expression  of  a  love 
deeper,  a  tenderness  more  tender,  a  longing  more  in- 
tense, than  ever  heart  of  flesh  may  feel,  or  the  voice 
and  eye  of  man  or  woman  express.  If  all  these 
voices  should  be  hushed,  all  these  faces  averted,  all 
these  eyes  turned  away,  the  love  of  God  for  me  would 
remain  unchanged  and  unchangeable.  By  the  minis- 
trations of  it  while  I  lived,  I  should  find  all  needed 
consolation,  and  at  death  be  folded  in  the  embrace  of 
its  arms  forever. 

As  it  is  to  me,  so  is  it  to  you  all.  You  may  reject 
its  overtures  to-day  ;  but  it  will  entreat  only  the  more 
at  some  future  time.  You  may  turn  your  backs  upon 
its  offer  of  pardon,  and  go  from  this  church  hardened 
and  untouched ;  but  it  will  go  with  you  all  the  same. 
It  will  follow  you  to  your  homes ;  it  will  accompany 


248  NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT, 

you  to  your  chambers ;  it  will  stand  by  you  at  your 
places  of  business :  wherever  you  are  it  will  be,  ever 
repeating,  as  you  reject,  its  offer,  —  pardon  of  all  your 
sins  through  the  blood  of  Jesus.  Who  in  this  assem- 
bly hears  this  offer  now  ?  Who  is  about  to  decide  ? 
What  is  it  you  decide  ?  Do  you  reject  it  ?  Do  you 
accept  it  ?     Who  here  accepts  it  ? 

"  Without  the  sheding  of  blood  is  no  remission." 
Thank  God  the  blood  was  shed  !  Whose  blood  ?  The 
blood  of  the  dying  Saviour.  It  flowed  from  those 
blessed  hands,  through  which  the  spikes  were  driven ; 
from  that  celestial  brow,  around  which  the  thorny 
crown,  in  cruel  mocker}^,  was  tightly  set ;  from  those 
feet,  the  sound  of  whose  coming  had  brought  joy  to 
the  mourner,  and  life  to  the  dead ;  and  from  that 
saintl}^  side,  within  which  the  heart  of  tender,  deep, 
universal  love  for  man  was  beating.  O  heart  that 
beat  for  me !  O  love  that  yearned  for  mine !  O 
hands  whose  touch  in  benediction  bringeth  perfect 
peace  !  Saviour  of  men,  we  love  thee  !  The  sceptic 
may  laugh ;  but  his  laughter  can  never  dim  this  ever- 
lasting rainbow  in  our  sky.  The  scoffer  may  scoff ; 
but  we  will  drown  his  scof&ng  in  the  volume  of  our 
uplifted  praise.  Thy  name  shall  be  our  watchword. 
It  shall  be  our  battle-cry.  Error  shall  go  down  be- 
fore us  as  we  peal  it  forth.  We  will  write  it  on  the 
front  of  our  stores.  It  shall  be  traced  in  letters  of 
light  in  the  rooms  where  we  repose.  At  waking,  our 
eyes  shall  see  it ;  and,  when  we  sink  to  sleep,  its  rays 
shall  guide  our  spirits  to  their  slumber.     In  life  it 


AND  WHY  NEEDED.  249 

shall  be  our  star ;  and  death  itself,  shone  on  by  its  full 
radiance,  shall  lose  the  dreadful  shadow  which  the 
unforgiven  see  upon  his  countenance,  and  seem,  to  us 
whose  sins  are  washed  away  by  the  all-cleansing 
blood,  like  a  white  angel  sent  forth  from  God. 

11* 


SABBATR  MORmJfa,  JAK.  14,  1872. 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.- NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 
"Without  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission."— Heb.  ix.  22. 

LAST  sabbath,  you  remember,  I  discussed  the 
obstacle  which  man's  transgression  of  the  law 
opposed  to  his  salvation,  and  how  it  was  removed  by 
the  death  of  Christ.  You  remember  we  showed 
that  it  was  not  the  lack  of  a  disposition  on  the  part 
of  God,  nor  the  literal  claims  of  the  divine  law,  which 
constituted  the  obstacle,  but  the  lack  of  a  medium 
through  which  God  might  express  his  mercy  without 
disregarding  the  claims  of  the  law.  As  in  the  case 
of  Darius  and  Daniel,  the  question  was,  "  What  is  an 
equivalent,  before  the  law,  of  the  criminal's  punish- 
ment ?  "  The  Persian  monarch,  although  he  sought 
until  the  going-down  of  the  sun,  could  find  no  equiva- 
lent, which,  being  substituted  in  the  place  of  the 
transgressor's  punishment,  might  answer  the  same 
end,  and  make  it  possible  for  a  pardon  to  be  issued. 
But  God,  more  excellent  in  wisdom  than  man,  was 
equal  to  the  emergency.  He  looked  into  his  own 
told,  and  there  found  a  Lamb  without  spot  or  blemish, 

250 


NEED   OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  251 

whose  sacrifice  the  law  could  accept  as  an  equivalent, 
and  thus  make  it  possible  for  God  to  extend  pardon 
to  transgressors  without  disregard  of  his  own  decree  ; 
and  thus  the  death  of  Christ  made  it  possible  for  God 
to  be  "  just,  and  yet  the  justifier  of  the  unjust." 

In  this  manner,  then,  was  the  first  of  the  two 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  our  salvation  removed.  The 
obstruction  which  man's  transgression  to  divine  law 
had  heaved  up  in  his  path  heavenward  was  swept 
away.  Heaven  now,  as  a  city  whose  gates  are  ever 
open,  lay  ahead  of  him  ;  and  up  to  its  shining  entrances 
ran  a  straight  and  unimpeded  path.  But  would 
man  walk  in  it  ?  That  was  the  question  which  re- 
mained. The  moment  the  breath  went  out  of  Christ 
as  he  hung  upon  the  cross,  that  very  moment  God 
could  offer  pardon  to  man ;  that  very  moment  he 
did  offer  it.  But  would  man  accept  it  ?  No  longer 
might  any  speculate  what  were  the  feelings  of  God 
toward  the  race.  In  Christ  his  love  and  cLesire  to 
save  were  advertised  beyond  mistake.  The  dying 
cry  of  the  Only-Begotten  not  only  rent  the  veil 
of  the  temple ;  it  parted  the  investiture  which  had 
concealed  the  character  of  God :  and  not  only  men, 
but  angels,  for  the  first  time,  saw  what  they  had 
long  desired  to  look  into.  Never  more  might  the 
universe  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  nature  of  its  great 
Head.  In  the  blood  of  Jesus,  the  love,  the  tender- 
ness, the  pity,  of  the  Father,  are  seen  to  flow  in  a 
perpetual  tide.  When  the  darkness  of  the  crucifixion 
melted  away,  the  world  beheld  the  nature  of  God 
as  our  eyes  behold  an  undraped  column  at  noon- 


252  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 

day :  above,  tlie  sky  was  cloudless ;  and  the  light 
which  bathed  it  from  apex  to  base  was  intense,  fade- 
less, and  serene. 

The  first  part  of  the  problem  was  now  and  thus 
solved.  How  God  felt,  the  world  knew ;  how  man 
felt,  it  was  yet  to  discover.  The  first  obstacle  to  sal- 
vation was  removed  :  the  second  remained. 

The  second  obstacle,  I  say,  —  the  enmity  of  the  hu- 
man heart,  —  remained.  The  death  of  Christ  wrought 
no  change  in  man.  He  gazed  with  eyes  unlighted,  with 
set  and  dogged  look,  at  the  exhibition  of  the  cross. 
The  heaven-sent  Saviour,  who  came  to  bear  the  pun- 
ishment of  his  sins,  was  hooted  at  and  denounced 
while  he  lived,  and  gibed  and  jeered  at  as  he  expired. 
Man's  heart  remained  unchanged.  Rebel  still  against 
God's  law,  he  gloried  in  his  rebellion.  He  refused 
all  overtures  of  mercy.  He  scoffed  at  pardon,  or,  if 
he  did  not  scoff,  treated  God's  solicitude  with  cool 
and  studied  indifference.  But  why  employ  the  past 
tense.  Why  say  man  did  it  ?  Rather  let  me  say 
man  does  ;  for,  in  describing  what  was,  do  I  not  also 
describe  what  is  ?  Need  I  go  out  of  this  audience 
for  subjects  from  which  to  sketch  the  portrait  of 
neglect  and  cool  indifference  to  God's  merciful  incli- 
nation to  man  ?  Are  there  not,  here  and  now,  in  this 
room,  men  and  women  who  present  in  living  form 
and  feature  the  very  face  and  figure  of  this  spiritual 
carelessness  and  unconcern  ?  Are  there  not  here  and 
there  persons  in  this  congregation  who  feel  them- 
selves to  be  plain,  undeniable  proof  and  evidence  of 
what  we  claim  ?     In  your  own  hearts,  my  hearers, 


NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  253 

behold  the  breathing,  animate  demonstration  of  the 
truth,  that  although  Christ  has  died,  although  heaven 
has  done  its  utmost  to  save,  although  in  infinite 
mercy  God  has  removed  by  the  death  of  Christ  the 
first  obstacle  to  your  salvation,  yet  the  second  obstacle 
—  the  wickedness  of  your  own  hearts  —  lifts  between 
you  and  hope  its  huge  impediment  still.  Behold 
and  realize  to-day  what  the  impediment  to  your 
salvation  is.  It  is  not  the  harshness  nor  the  strict- 
ness of  God,  nor  the  hardness  of  the  terms  pre- 
scribed, nor  justice,  which  has  no  pity.  No :  it  is 
none  of  these.  If  you  are  lost,  it  will  not  be  owing 
to  these.  Not  from  any  thing  outside  do  you  need 
deliverance.  The  deliverance  you  need,  my  friend,  is 
deliverance  from  yourself.  You  are  your  own  im- 
pediment, and  the  only  impediment  there  is  between 
you  and  heaven.  You  lack  not  the  offer  of  pardon 
from  the  pardoning  power :  that  offer  is  made  you ;  in 
His  name  I  make  it  now.  What  you  lack,  friend,  is 
a  desire  to  he  pardoned.  You  will  not  accept  for- 
giveness ;  and  the  lack  of  this  desire  is  now  what 
constitutes  the  only  impediment  between  you  and 
heaven,  and  blinds  your  eyes  to  all  the  radiant  and 
outstreaming  glories  of  it.  Alas  that  men  called 
learned,  in  the  face  of  these  facts,  should  continue  to 
teach  that  there  is  no  enmity  in  man's  heart  to  God, 
and  no  persistent  rebellion  to  his  laws ;  no  reason  why 
any  should  worry  themselves  concerning  their  state 
and  condition,  when  life  and  breath,  and  all  these 
gracious  offers  of  pardon,  have  passed  away  forever ! 
Now,  before  we  proceed    to   discuss  how   God, 


254  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 

through  the  atonement,  seeks  to  remove  this,  —  the 
second  obstacle  to  our  salvation, — let  us  pause  a  mo- 
ment, and  interject  a  few  explanatory  remarks.  Be- 
fore we  discuss  how  this  enmity  to  God  in  the  human 
heart  can  be  removed,  let  us  get  a  clear  conception 
as  to  the  need  of  its  removal;  for  here  logically 
comes  in  the  consideration  of  the  new  birth,  or  what 
is  more  often  called  a  "  change  of  heart." 

Now,  no  government  by  an  official  act  can  make  a 
disloyal  subject  loyal.  Suppose  that,  during  the  re- 
bellion, when  it  was  in  all  its  arrogance  and  power, 
our  government  at  Washington  had  issued  a  procla- 
mation of  pardon  to  every  rebel,  from  the  general-in- 
chief  down  to  the  private  in  the  ranks:  would  that 
proclamation  of  pardon  have  made  a  single  rebel  less 
rebellious  ?  Would  it  have  taken  the  spirit  of  revolt, 
of  enmity,  out  of  a  single  heart,  and  supplanted  it 
with  the  spirit  of  loyalty  and  love  ?  "Of  course  not," 
you  say.  "  But  why  ?  "  I  inquire.  "  Because,"  you  re- 
spond, in  the  very  words  I  used  at  the  start,  "  no  gov- 
ernment can  by  such  an  official  act  change  the  feel- 
ings of  its  subjects."  So,  then,  we  agree  in  this,  —  that 
the  presence  of  the  strongest  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
government  to  have  iw  subjects  loyal  does  not  make 
them  loyal ;  nor  is  it  possible  for  that  government, 
by  any  act  or  effort,  to  take  discontent  and  enmity  out 
of  the  heart  of  those  who  are  filled  with  such  feel- 
ings. And  the  reason  is,  because  you  cannot  legis- 
late feehngs  into  men.  You  cannot  by  official  acts 
make  enemies  friendly.  You  cannot,  at  will,  change 
hatred  to  love. 


NEED   OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  255 

But  we  all  agree,  furthermore,  in  this,  —  that  such  a 
change  must  take  place  in  the  hearts  of  the  rebellious 
or  ever  it  is  safe  or  practicable  for  the  government  to 
admit  them  to  share  in  its  honors  and  service.  It 
would  be  governmental  suicide  to  permit  the  disloyal 
and  hostile  portion  of  its  subjects  to  hold  sway  and 
power ;  and  especially  would  it  be  destructive  and 
suicidal  if  the  hostile  party  hated  not  merely  the 
government  itself,  but  more  bitterly  yet  the  princi- 
ples on  which  the  government  was  founded.  The 
claim,  for  instance,  which  the  nation  set  up  and 
insisted  on,  the  idea  upon  which  all  our  reconstruction 
acts  were  based,  was  this,  —  that  the  several  State 
governments  south  should  be  constructed  on  a  loyal 
basis,  and  administered  by  loyal  men.  The  disloyal, 
the  hostile,  the  unrepentant  rebels,  as  we  all  insisted, 
and  rightly  too,  were  in  such  a  state  of  mind  as  to 
disqualify  them  from  sharing  in  the  service  and  emolu- 
ments of  public  affairs.  The  nation  insisted  that  no 
unchanged,  unrepentant  rebel  should  be  admitted  to 
a  place  in  the  government.  Pardon  should  be  ex- 
tended only  on  the  evidence  of  repentance  and  re- 
turning loyalty.  This  principle  was  correct.  The 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  restoration  of  the  South 
to  forfeited  rights  and  forgiveness  was,  as  we  all 
know,  not  harshness  on  the  part  of  the  government, 
not  a  disinclination  to  forgive,  not  because  it  was 
not  possible  for  it  to  forgive ;  but  the  obstacle,  the 
only  obstacle,  was  the  unrepentant  attitude  and  re- 
fusal on  the  part  of  the  South  to  be  pardoned. 

The  analogy  between  these,  in  their  relation  to  our 


256  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 

government,  and  those  who  remain  impenitent  before 
the  government  of  God,  is  very  close.  By  the  death 
of  Christ,  God  is  able  to  extend  pardon  to  all.  He 
does  extend  it ;  but  many  refuse.  Now,  God  cannot 
legislate  holy  affections  into  a  sinner's  heart,  any 
more  than  Congress  could  loyal  affections  into  a 
Southern  rebel.  God  cannot  save  a  man  against  his 
will  and  desire.  What  is  wanted,  therefore,  on  the 
part  of  man,  is  a  desire  to  be  saved.  What  you 
need  is  a  change  of  feeling  toward  God,  my  friend. 
Your  present  indifference  needs  to  be  supplanted  with 
interest ;  your  present  opposition,  with  concurrence  ; 
your  refusal,  with  assent ;  your  rejection,  with  ac- 
ceptance. This,  then,  you  see,  is  the  obstacle  to 
your  salvation,  — you  are  in  no  state  of  feeling  to  ac- 
cept it.  Observe  how  free  this  is  from  mysticism. 
How  clearly  you  can  perceive  why  you  are  not  saved, 
if  you  shall  not  be !  Turn  your  qjq  inward,  and 
see  in  yourself  the  only  obstacle  between  you  and 
heaven. 

It  seems  to  me  that  I  could  never  pardon  some 
preachers  for  making  this  subject  so  mysterious. 
Regeneration,  or  the  removal  of  the  second  obstacle 
to  man's  salvation,  is  lifted  by  some  religious  teach- 
ers far  into  the  clouds  which  float  along  the  ex- 
tremest  boundary  of  human  vision.  They  cover  it  up 
with  so  many  fine  definitions,  they  swathe  it  in  so 
many  texts  of  Scripture,  they  bewilder  the  hearer 
with  so  many  vehement  exhortations,-  that  the  mind 
of  an  angel  would  be  befogged,  and  the  audience  go 
away  laboring  under  certain  evangelical  impressions 


NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  257 

it  is  true,  but  in  reality  no  wiser ;  seeing  no  more 
clearly  the  real  point  than  they  did  the  last  time  they 
were  inundated  by  such  a  torrent  of  words. 

Now,  there  is,  in  fact,  no  more  difficulty  in  under- 
standing this  second  obstacle  to  salvation  than  the 
first.  States  and  dispositions  of  heart  are  no  more 
mysterious  than  the  acts  which  flow  from  them. 
There  is  not  an  individual  here  who  is  not  able  to 
say  w^hether  he  is  ready  now  to  accept  forgiveness 
of  his  sins  or  not.  If  he  is  not  ready,  whether  from 
this  cause  or  that,  there  is  not  a  man  here  who 
does  not  see  just  why  he  is  not  forgiven  :  it  is  because 
he  prefers  not  to  be.  There  is  no  mysticism  about 
it ;  and  any  man,  whether  in  his  sermons  or  prayers, 
who  makes  the  need  of  a  change  of  heart  or  feelings 
mysterious,  throws  a  mystery  around  it  which  springs 
only  from  his  own  ignorance. 

Now,  my  hearers,  you  understand  fully  what  the 
second  obstacle  to  man's  salvation  is,  —  the  enmity  of 
the  human  heart.  You  see  that  the  death  of  Christ 
did  not  remove  it,  but  that  it  exists  the  same  as 
ever  to-day ;  that,  while  it  so  exists  in  your  heart,  it 
not  only  prevents  you  from  applying  for  pardon,  but 
also  prevents  God  from  granting  it ;  and  hence  there 
was,  after  the  death  of  Christ,  a  need  that  some  spe- 
cial agency  should  be  established,  by  the  workings 
of  which  the  second  obstacle  should  be  removed. 
And  at  this  point  I  say,  that  the  same  love,  which,  by 
the  death  of  Christ,  removed  the  first  obstacle  to  our 
pardon,  such  as  our  transgression  of  the  law  pre- 
sented, removed  also  the  second,  such  as  our  inherent 


258  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 

wickedness  and  hostility  to  God  presented.     Of  this 
I  will  now  proceed  to  speak. 

But  let  me,  in  the  first  place,  remark,  that  God 
accomplishes  his  ends,  not  by  the  exercise  of  arbitrary 
power,  but  through  the  agency  of  means. 

The  atonement  is  not  an  exhibition  of  omnipotence  ; 
it  is  not  to  be  considered  as  the  highest  demon- 
stration of  power :  it  is  to  be  regarded,  rather,  as  a 
provision^  a  medium^  an  expedient;  the  result  and 
proof  of  infinite  wisdom,  rather  than  of  might.  At 
the  crucifixion,  God  did  not  lift  the  world,  as  on  the 
crest  of  a  wave,  to  the  desired  altitude,  and  on  that 
level  roll  the  generations  onward.  He  started  a  cur- 
rent of  holy  influences  rather,  upon  which  the  race 
was  to  be  gradually  lifted,  and  urged  along  as  ships 
which  sail  an  ever-deej)ening  channel  are  lifted  and 
impelled  by  tides  which  swell  and  gather  volume  as 
they  flow.  The  death  of  Christ,  substituted  before  the 
law  in  the  place  of  man's  proper  punishment,  was 
the  means  he  introduced  to  remove  the  first  obstacle  to 
our  salvation.  So  accustom  yourselves  to  regard  it, 
my  hearers.  In  the  cross  of  the  Son  behold  the  wis- 
dom of  the  Father.  Consider  it,  not  as  an  arbitrary, 
isolated  act,  but  as  a  device,  a  provision,  to  extricate 
the  race  from  the  embarrassment  and  woe  of  their 
sinful  position  in  a  way  honorable  to  the  Deity,  and 
not  humiliating  to  man.  Regard  the  death  of  Christ 
in  its  connections  also.  It  stands  not  alone.  It  is 
not  the  temple  :  it  is  the  corner-stone  upon  which  the 
whole  temple,  fitly  framed  together,  is  builded.  It  is 
the  central  and  pre-eminent  sun  of  the  gospel  system ; 


NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  269 

but  around  it  many  other  spheres,  perfect  and  full- 
orbed,  revolve,  no  less  brilliant  and  worthy  of  ad- 
miration because  they  shine  with  a  radiance  borrowed 
from  the  central  globe.  I  would  not  in  an  ignorant 
and  indiscriminating  piety  give  to  the  Son  that 
homage  which  belongs  to  the  Spirit.  I  would  not 
remember  Him  who  intercedes  in  heaven  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  Him  who  operates  on  the  earth.  I  would  not 
close  my  eyes,  as  one  in  trance,  and  dream  of  Him 
whom  I  hope  to  see  by  and  by  face  to  face,  thereby 
making  myself  unable  to  see  Him  who  stands  by  my 
very  side.  I  need  the  Advocate  ;  but  do  I  less  need 
the  Comforter  ?  I  need  the  blood  ;  but  do  I  less  need 
the  quickening  and  applying  Spirit  ?  I  need  the 
mediation,  the  atoning  efficacy,  of  Christ ;  but  need 
I  less  the  "  seal  and  witness  "  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ? 
No  !  In  the  clear  blue  above  me  I  suspend  the  twain, 
which,  like  two  stars,  each  at  its  fullest  orb,  equal 
in  radiant  girth,  lambent  and  intense,  commingle  their 
rays,  and  together  light  my  pathway  toward  that  city 
over  which  they  do  and  shall  forever  shine. 

Nor  would  I,  as  some  seem  to  do,  lose  sight  of  the 
part  man  has  to  play  in  the  atonement  scheme.  Men 
are  not  tossed  about  on  the  tides  of  evil  like  so  many 
pieces  of  precious  wood,  which  God,  through  the 
atonement,  collects,  and  restores  to  their  former  posi- 
tion in  the  vast  frame  of  universal  affairs  from  which 
they  have  slipped.  Man  is  an  agent.  Man  is  an 
elector.  With  him,  by  an  indestructible  endowment, 
is  the  power  to  act  and  choose.  Acceptance  and 
refusal  are,  and  must  ever  be,  his.     This  is  what  I 


260  AND  WHY   NEEDED. 

meant,  when  I  said,  a  moment  ago,  that  the  atone- 
ment scheme  does  not  humiliate  man.  God  respects 
his  own  creation,  and  disturbs  not  its  functional  pre- 
rogatives. The  atonement  enslaves  and  enervates 
no  man.  It  makes  no  attempt  to  rob  man  of  his  free 
agency  :  it  puts  no  gag  into  his  mouth,  no  fetter  on 
his  thought,  no  check  upon  his  propelling  powers. 
God  is  no  tyrant:  he  wishes  no  unwilling  subjects. 
There  is  not  a  man  or  woman  here  compelled,  beyond 
the  compulsion  of  conscience  and  reason,  to  accept 
his  offer.  Whether  you  love  him  or  not,  you  must 
at  least,  all  of  you,  admire  the  manner  in  which  he 
invites  you  to  love  him.  "  Come,"  he  says,  "  let  us 
reason  together."  Is  there  any  compulsion,  any 
tyranny,  in  that?  ^'-Choose  ye  this  day  whom  ye 
will  serve  :  if  the  Lord  is  God,  follow  him  ;  if  Baal, 
follow  him."  How  considerate  that  is  !  how  it  honors 
your  judgment !  how  it  appeals  to  your  power  of 
proper  decision  !  I  desire  that  each  of  you  should  un- 
derstand that  the  system  of  theology  I  preach  is  not 
a  system  of  ropes  and  fetters  to  bind  and  drag  you 
with ;  it  is  not  a  system  of  dictation,  of  gags  and 
withs.  I  preach  to  you  as  I  would  argue  before  a 
jury.  Mine  is  the  duty  of  explanation,  entreaty  ; 
yours  to  choose  and  decide.  No  slander  was  ever 
more  palpably  such  than  the  assertion,  that  the  evan- 
gelical religion  is  a  religion  of  feeling  independent 
of  intellect ;  that  the  orthodox  system  ostracizes 
reason  ;  that  its  churches  allow  no  latitude  of  opin- 
ion. Yet  as  a  lie  repeated  is  at  last  a  lie  believed, 
so,  by  constant  reiteration,  this  assertion  has  become 


NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  261 

stamped  into  the  belief  of  many.  It  lias  no  truth  in 
fact.  Wherein  we  difPer  from  some  is  in  this,  —  some 
suppose  that  there  can  be  no  latitude  of  opinion  in 
religion  while  there  is  any  thing  to  have  an  opinion 
upon  ;  and  so  they  sweep  Christ  out  of  Christianity, 
and  the  Bible  out  of  theology,  and  then,  when  they 
have  nothing  to  differ  upon,  call  their  blank  negation 
liberality  of  opinion,  and  plume  themselves  upon 
thinking  as  they  please  after  they  have  buried  under 
a  flat  denial  all  that  is  really  worth  thinking  upon. 
Why,  my  hearers,  how  can  the  atonement  be  sub- 
versive of  intellect,  when,  in  all  its  appeals,  it  leaves 
every  thing  to  the  decision  of  intellect  ?  when  it  is, 
from  beginning  to  end,  a  system  of  means,  a  system 
of  persuasion,  a  system  of  entreaty,  ignoring  at  every 
point,  and  in  I  care  not  what  emergency,  all  compul- 
sion, all  force,  all  violence  ? 

But  to  return.  I  said  that  the  second  obstacle,  as 
the  first,  was  removed  by  the  use  of  means.  The 
thing  needed,  you  remember,  was  a  disposition  on 
the  part  of  man  to  he  saved.  What  stood  in  the 
way  was  the  indifference  and  opposition  of  the  human 
heart  to  accept  the  terms  of  pardon  proposed.  Let 
us  now  ascertain  by  what  means  God  seeks  to  remove 
this  indifference  and  opposition. 

There  are  then,  I  remark,  three  means  employed, 
all  of  which,  independent  of  or  connected  with  each 
other,  are  calculated  to  meet  the  end  proposed.  The 
three  may  be  thus  set  in  order  :  — 

1.  The  death  of  Christ  as  a  subject  of  reflection. 

2.  The  ministry  of  the  word  as  a  system  of  induce- 
ments. 


262  AND  WHY  NEEDED. 

3.  The  influence  of  tlie  Holy  Ghost. 

Time  only  remains  for  me  to  speak  of  the  first  of 
these  three  means  calculated  to  remove  the  enmity 
of  the  human  heart  to  God  ;  viz.,  the  death  of  Christ 
as  a  subject  of  reflection. 

There  is  something  impressive  and  solemn  in  the 
thought  of  death.  When  life  is  surrendered  from 
principle  ;  when  a  man  voluntarily  yields  it  up  in 
accordance  with  his  convictions  of  duty,  or  from 
the  promptings  of  a  noble,  humane  impulse  to  save, 
—  the  world  pays  its  universal  homage  to  his  name. 
The  list  of  martyrs  is  long  ;  and  the  number  of  those 
who  died  for  human  weal  is  beyond  count.  The 
pages  of  history  are  fragrant  with  the  odor  of  their 
deeds.  From  the  record  of  their  lives  the  student 
draws  his  noblest  aspirations  ;  and  their  elegy  sounds 
with  more  of  an  heroic  than  of  a  funereal  strain,  and 
with  an  ever-accumulating  swell.  It  betters  a  man 
to  pause  occasionally,  and  think  of  the  past ;  of  the 
thousands,  not  unknown  to  fame,  who  have  died  in 
battle  that  Liberty  might  have  a  foothold  on  the 
earth,  and  upon  the  elevation  of  whose  graves,  as 
upon  a  sure  foundation,  she  has  at  last  builded  her 
temple ;  of  those  other  thousands  whose  names 
have  faded  like  extinguished  stars  from  the  firma- 
ment of  human  knowledge,  and  yet  whose  glory, 
like  beams  of  light  whose  far-distant  source  has 
fallen,  add  to  the  general  illumination  of  the  sky. 

There  is  not  a  name  of  men  and  women  back  of  me, 
who  died  thus,  to  which  I  am  not  bound  in  gratitude. 
There  is  not  a  person  in  all  that  vast  array,  who  made 


NEED  OF  AN  ATONEMENT,  263 

one  unselfish  effort  for  knowledge,  one  heroic  en- 
deavor for  liberty,  who  endured  a  single  sacrifice  for 
principle,  to  whom  I  am  not  held  in  debt.  From  the 
silence  of  graves  long  forgotten,  from  the  depth  of 
dungeons  —  now  fortunately  in  ruins  —  where  they 
expired,  they  put  forth  their  eloquent  and  impressive 
claim ;  and  my  heart,  in  its  every  beat  .of  joy  and 
peace  and  hope,  acknowledges  its  gratitude.  But  is 
there  not  a  name  back  of  me  more  radiant  than  all 
names  ?  Is  there  not  an  act  which  is  to  the  constel- 
lated deeds  of  history  what  the  sun  is  to  the  stars 
when  he  rises  with  far-reaching  and  upstreaming 
glory  out  of  the  east  ?  Is  there  not  one  face,  which, 
unseen  by  us  all,  has  nevertheless  imprinted  itself 
with  an  indelible  impress  upon  the  tablet  of  our 
minds  ?  It  is  the  name  and  face  of  Jesus,  and  the 
act  is  his  death  for  us  on  Calvary.  It  was  there  that 
hope  was  born  for  a  dying  race.  It  was  there  that 
peace,  which  passeth  understanding,  became  a  com- 
ponent and  fragrant  part  of  the  moral  atmosphere, 
which  men  no  sooner  inhaled  than  their  feverish 
tossings  and  murmurs  ceased,  and  they  found  the 
long-sought  rest.  It  was  then  and  there,  my  hearer, 
stranger  or  friend,  that  a  new  and  glorious  possibility 
was  opened  up  to  you  and  me  ;  and  before  us,  to-day, 
this  possibility  of  pardon  of  all  our  sins,  and  recon- 
ciliation with  God,  from  whom  we  became  estranged, 
stretches  its  avenue  of  promise,  and  the  glory  of  the 
city  into  which  it  leads  invites  us  to  enter.  Will 
you  enter  ?  Let  your  mind  in  this  closing  moment 
run  backward  along  the  line  of  the  centuries.     How 


264  AND   WHY    NEEDED. 

quickly  your  thought  has  flashed  itself  across  the  gulf 
of  nineteen  hundred  years !  Now  take  your  stand  on 
Calvary,  and  crowding  closely  to  the  foot  of  the  cross, 
unnoticed  amid  the  darkness  by  the  soldiery,  look 
upward  into  the  face  of  your  dying  Lord.  Look 
well  at  that  face.  Why?  Because  it  is  the  face 
of  the  only  man  who  ever  died  for  his  foes.  Stand- 
ing there,  say,  knowing  that  you  speak  with  the 
accuracy  of  fact,  "  This,  then,  is  the  man  who  died 
for  me;  this  is  he  who  voluntarily,  out  of  love  for 
me,  took  my  place  before  the  law,  and  hangs  here 
suffering  the  sufferings  which  I  should  suffer,  dying 
that  I  may  live.  Never  was  love  like  unto  this; 
never  a  death  like  unto  thine,  my  Saviour."  Is  there 
a  man  or  woman  here,  whose  heart  is  not  hardened 
bejT-ond  the  susceptibility  of  gratitude,  not  willing, 
nay,  who  does  not  rejoice,  to  say,  as  did  the  sceptical 
but  convinced  Thomas,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God  "  ? 

"  Without  the  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission." 
Let  our  thoughts,  like  a  song,  come  back  to  the 
melody  of  the  opening  note.  At  the  cross  we  stood 
when  we  began ;  and  now,  at  the  close,  we  group 
ourselves,  hand  linked  in  hand,  around  the  same. 
Guilty  as  we  are,  it  is  our  only  hope.  Thank  God,  it 
is  a  perfect  hope  !  Let  me  but  clasp  it  with  my  arm  ; 
let  me  but  touch  it  with  my  hand  ;  let  me  but  see  it 
even ;  let  me  but  send  a  pleading  glance,  in  dying, 
toward  it,  —  and  the  petition  of  that  silent,  that  un- 
uttered  trust,  shall  bring  salvation  to  my  soul.  O 
friends !  it  takes  age ;  it  takes  moral  failure ;  it 
takes  the  knowledge  of  multiplying  sinfulness;   it 


NEED   OF  AN  ATONEMENT.  265 

takes  the  bitter  consciousness  which  living  brings ; 
the  self-mistrust,  the  self-conviction,  tearful  and  full 
of  foreboding,  which  cannot  lift  even  its  eyes  toward 
heaven,  but  beats  upon  the  breast,  and  cries,  "  God 
be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner!"  —  it  takes  all  this,  I 
say,  to  make  one  realize  the  value,  the  necessity,  the 
sweet  blessedness,  of  the  cross.  If  there  is  one  that 
loves  me  here,  if  there  is  one  that  trusts  me,  if  there 
is  one  whose  ears  are  open  to  m}^  voice,  I  say.  My 
friend,  come  here  and  stand  with  me  beside  and  un- 
derneath the  cross,  and  we  will  hold  our  sinfulness 
up  ;  we  will  unfold  all  our  lives ;  we  will  open  up  all 
our  inmost  thoughts,  feeling  as  if  the  eyes  of  heaven 
looked  through  it,  and  the  voice  of  God  was  in  it, 
and  hear  what  it  will  say.  What  does  it  say  ?  Say  ? 
It  says,  "  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall 
be  as  white  as  snow ;  though  they  be  red  like  crim- 
son, they  shall  be  as  wool."  And  what  shall  we  re- 
spond ?  Respond?  "Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was 
slain  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing." 

12 


SABBATH  MORKIKG,  JAJ{.  ^1,  1872. 


y 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.-THE  DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  TO  SEND  THE  GOSPEL  TO  HEATHEN 

•  "The  entrance  of  Thy  words  giveth  light."  — Ps.  cxix.  130. 


THERE  is  nothing  so  gracious  in  nature,  nothing 
so  essential,  as  light.  Its  offices  are  manifold, 
its  benefits  beyond  enumeration.  It  came  into  our 
atmosphere  at  the  command  of  God,  and  its  coming 
marked  the  first  epoch  in  creation.  Until  it  came, 
the  earth  was  without  form,  and  void.  Darkness  was 
upon  the  face  of  the  deep.  The  earth  was  as  a  child 
conceived,  but  not  born.  It  was  a  world  in  embryo  : 
it  existed  in  germinal  condition.  The  elementary 
forces  were  there,  but  unconnected,  and  without 
form.  The  presence  of  God  must  be  felt  among 
them  before  they  would  assume  their  proper  propor- 
tions and  become  instinct  with  life.  And  so  God 
caused  his  Spirit  to  move  upon  the  face  of  the  waters ; 
and  a  voice  went  forth  through  the  darkness,  at  the 
sound  of  which  the  darkness  faded,  and  light  was. 
And  God  saw  the  light,  and  it  was  good. 

•  Preached  on  the  occasion  of  the  annual  collection  for  the  Foreign  Board. 
266 


DUTY   OF   CHRISTIANS  TO  SEND  267 

The  Bible  is  the  word  of  God.  In  it  whatever  he 
has  spoken  to  man  is  recorded.  In  it  are  revealed  the 
wisdom  and  the  love  of  Heaven  toward  men.  It  is  to 
men  in  their  spiritual  relation  what  the  sun  itself  is 
to  nature.  Light  and  all  profitable  germination  result 
from  its  presence.  The  analog}^  is  so  close,  that  the 
inspired  writers  have  used  it  in  many  places  to  de- 
scribe its  power  and  benevolent  action  among  men. 
The  word  "light"  is  frequently  employed  to  denote 
the  blessings  in  the  kingdom  of  grace.  The  rank 
that  it  holds  in  inspired  language  is  seen  when  you 
recall  how  closely  it  has  been  associated  with  the 
Saviour.  Christ  is  called  by  John  the  "  Light  of  the 
world."  It  was  chosen  by  Jesus  himself  to  denote 
that  which  is  most  expressive  of  piety,  when  he 
charged,  his  disciples  "  that  their  light  should  shine 
before  men."  The  sweetest  of  all  prayers,  as  it 
often  seems  to  us  amid  darkness,  is  the  supplica- 
tion, that  "  God  would  lift  up  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance upon  us."  In  all  languages,  even  in  heathen 
tongues,  it  is  universally  used  to  express  joy  and 
gladness  and  prosperity.  It  is,  as  you  see,  a  word 
of  dignity  and  grace  ;  a  word  of  beautiful  and  noble 
use  ;  a  word  never  associated  with  vice  and  suffering 
and  pain  ;  a  word  honored  of  God  and  man  ;  a  word 
symbolic  only  of  blessings.  Does  the  Bible  deserve 
so  noble  an  epithet?  What  does  it  do,  what  does 
it  introduce  among  men,  that  we  should  assent  to 
the  assertion  of  the  text,  and  say,  that  the  entrance 
of  the  Word  giveth  light  ?  I  will  briefly  point  out  to 
you  what  it  accomplishes. 


268  THE   GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN   LANDS. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  it  produces  a  great  change. 

This  change  is  not  realized  by  us,  because  we  do 
not  go  far  enough  back  in  the  history  of  nations  to 
appreciate  it,  to  note  the  changes  produced  by  its 
introduction.  If  I  say  that  it  underlies  our  civiliza- 
tion, that  it  is  the  parent  of  intellectual  activity  as 
we  behold  it  to-day,  your  minds  instantly  revert  to 
France,  or  to  some  people  among  whom  the  word 
of  God  is  not  credited,  where  its  inspiration  is  little 
felt;  and  you  say,  "Instead  of  the  Bible  being  the 
source  of  civilization,  the  nurse  of  arts,  the  handmaid 
of  science,  the  fact  is,  that  the  most  civilized,  the 
most  refined  nation  in  the  world  does  not  accept  the 
Bible  as  God's  revelation :  it  does  not  enter  as  a 
power  into  their  daily  life."  And  that  would  be 
apparently  true,  and  yet  in  reality  false.  It  is  a  super- 
ficial statement.  It  does  not  cover  the  Avhole  ground. 
Go  back  to  the  time  when  France  was  not  France, 
but  Gaul ;  when  the  land  was  not  the  home  of  a 
civilized,  but  of  a  barbarous  people ;  when,  in  the 
place  of  a  nation  composed  of  a  homogeneous  race, 
there  were  only  savage  tribes,  rude,  ignorant,  and 
debased ;  when  modern  France  —  the  France  you 
think  of  when  I  speak  of  the  Bible  as  underlying  all 
its  civilization  —  existed  only  in  its  basal  elements, 
only  in  chaotic  state,  just  as  the  world  existed  ere  the 
Spirit  of  God  moved  on  the  face  of  the  waters,  —  go 
back  to  this  period,  I  say,  and  see  if  it  was  not  the 
entrance  of  God's  word  among  those  heathen  tribes 
that  brought  light.  What  magnetic  power  was  it 
that  drew  all  those  many  tribes  together,  and  held 


DUTY   OF  CHRISTIANS  TO   SEND  269 

them  by  its  attraction  in  one  compact  mass  ?  "What 
first  planted  letters  in  that  Gallic  soil,  since  too  vain 
and  proud  to  acknowledge  the  hand  that  first  made 
it  fertile?  In  whose  name  were  her  earliest  archi- 
tectm-al  attempts  undertaken?  On  what  altars  did 
her  poesy  first  light  her  feeble  fires  ?  Who  trained 
her  children  first  to  sing  ?  I  say,  speaking  with  the 
accuracy  of  history,  that  France  owes  her  birth  as  a 
nation,  owes  the  bu'th  of  her  arts  and  literature  and 
culture,  to  the  Bible.  As  with  England  and  Scot- 
land and  Germany,  it  was  the  introduction  of  Chris- 
tianity, bringing  in  its  train  civilization,  with  all  the 
blessings  it  includes,  which  gave  existence  to  France, 
rescuing  her  land  and  people  from  gross  barbarism. 
Well  would  it  have  been  for  France  had  she  re- 
membered her  early  obligations  to  the  Bible,  and 
walked  more  strictly  in  the  path  that  it  points  out 
alike  to  nations  and  to  men.  She  bleeds  to-day,  and 
there  is  no  balm  for  her  wounds ;  foi;  the  balm  she 
needs,  and  might  have  had,  she  has  for  years  proudly 
and  scornfully  rejected. 

You  see,  aU  of  you,  that,  if  you  would  properly 
measure  the  value  of  the  Bible  to  a  nation,  you  must 
study  the  question  historically.  You  must  not  look 
at  it  as  it  is,  but  as  it  was  in  contrast  with  what  it 
is.  You  must  not  look  at  the  result,  but  search  for 
the  causes  that  produced  the  result.  And,  looking  at 
them  in  this  light,  I  say  that  France  and  England 
and  Germany,  and  every  civilized  nation  on  the  face 
■  of  the  earth  to-day,  owe  as  much  more  to  the  Bible 
than  the  Sandwich-Islanders  do  as  their  civilization  is 


270  THE   GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN   LANDS. 

fuller  and  richer  than  theirs.  There  never  was  a 
ruder,  coarser,  more  savage  race  under  heaven  than 
that  race  from  which  we  derive  our  origin,  —  the 
Anglo-Saxon.  A  fierce,  barbarous  stock  it  was,  sin- 
ewy, lithe,  and  supple,  but  with  the  instincts  of  a 
tiger  and  the  fierceness  of  a  wild  boar, — a  race 
whose  very  mirth  was  grim  and  horrid ;  whose  joy 
was  the  joy  of  an  untamed  passion  for  bloodshed ; 
whose  revelry  was  like  the  feast  of  vultures ;  and 
whose  highest  idea  of  heaven  was  a  prolonged  ca- 
rousal, at  which  they  should  be  served  by  those  whom 
they  had  enslaved  by  their  victories,  and  drink  their 
wine  from  the  skulls  of  their  enemies.  Into  such  a 
wild,  gnarled,  and  acrid  stock  the  gospel  slip  was 
inserted.  It  thrived,  demonstrating  its  divine  energy 
by  its  growth.  It  expelled  the  old  bitterness,  sup- 
planting it  by  a  sweeter  sap.  And  where  will  you 
find  in  all  the  earth  another  tree  so  tall  and  shapely, 
so  fragrant  with  blossoms,  so  laden  with  fruitful- 
ness,  as  is  this  of  ours,  which  the  Word  and  Spirit 
of  God  have  brought  forth  from  the  old  Saxon  trunk  ? 
The  truest  judgment,  the  widest  charity,  the  noblest 
impulses,  come  from  those  who  recall  what  their  an- 
cestors were.  None  other  can  reahze  what  they  owe 
to  the  Word  of  God. 

The  same  difficulty  meets  one  in  his  attempt  to  set 
forth  what  we  owe  individually  to  the  Bible.  The 
magnitude  of  the  blessing  makes  a  full  appreciation 
impossible.  Deprivation  is,  in  some  cases,  the  only 
source  of  knowledge  touching  the  value  of  what  we 
have  enjoyed.     The  preciousness  of  liberty  is  nevei 


DUTY   OF   CHRISTIANS   TO    SEND  271 

felt  until  we  are  curtailed  in  our  freedom.  One  day 
of  blindness  could  alone  teach  us  how  much  of  our 
happiness  and  usefulness  is  due  to  the  light.  Pain 
and  weakness  must  be  felt  before  we  can  appreciate 
health.  Now,  this  is  eminently  true  touching  our 
feeling  as  to  the  benefits  we  have  derived  from  the 
Bible.  We  were  born  in  a  Christian  land,  where  the 
customs,  habits,  intellectual  state,  and  social  and  moral 
conditions,  are  all  Christian.  All  knowledge  comes 
to  us  by  comparison ;  and  we  who  have  lived  in  this 
country,  never  visited  heathen  lands,  never  seen  how 
much  like  brutes,  and  how  little  like  human  beings, 
their  peoples  are,  —  we  cannot  measure  the  blessings 
we  enjoy.  The  most  common  and  essential  institu- 
tions, the  most  ennobling  conceptions  of  our  lives, 
are  all,  unnoted  as  they  are  by  us,  offshoots  of  the 
Bible.  Home  is  a  Bible  gift ;  and  we  all  owe  more 
to  home  influence  than  to  any  other.  It  did  more  to 
shape  our  lives,  mould  our  minds,  form  our  habits, 
"^scipline  our  powers,  and  make  possible  that  measure 
of  success  we  have  attained  in  life,  than  any  of  us 
can  estimate.  The  full-grown  tree  forgets  the  weak- 
ness and  exposed  condition  of  its  early  state  :  it  for- 
gets that  it  was  braced  and  supported,  fenced  from 
danger,  and  shielded  from  violence  ;  forgets  that  there 
was  a  time  when  the  care  and  pressure  of  one  hand 
directed  it,  and  made  all  its  growing  forces  go  out  in 
right  directions.  And  yet  the  tree  owes  to  that  early 
training  all  its  symmetry,  and  the  full  rounded  ex- 
pression of  its  life.  So  it  is  with  us.  We  have  out- 
grown the  home  care,  the  home  contact.     We  stand 


272  THE  GOSPEL  TO  HEATHEN  LANDS. 

strong,  well  braced,  towering  in  all  the  strength  and 
altitude  of  independent,  individual  life  ;  but  we  have 
not  outgrown  the  home  influence.      We  see  it  no 
longer  in  the  growth  ;  but  we  do  see  it  in  the  result 
of  our  life.     It  is  just  so  with  every  man  in  relation 
to  his  mother.     There  was  a  time  when  "  mother  " 
meant  literally  every  thing  to  us.     We  were  in  every 
thing  dependent  upon  her.     She  fed  us  ;  she  clothed 
us  ;  she  taught  us  ;  she  corrected  our  faults,  encour- 
aged our  virtues.     We  were  shaped  by  her  power  as 
the  plastic  model  is  shaped  by  the  careful  touch  of  the 
artist.     We  did  not  appreciate  her  influence  then : 
we  have  grown  to  understand  it  better  since.     We 
all  know,  that   beyond   all   effort   of   ours,  beyond 
all  skill,  beyond  all  our  industry,  we  owe  the  hap- 
piness and  influence  of  our  lives  to  those  inflaences 
that  were  around  us  in  infancy  and  youth.     Through 
the  apprehension  of  what  you  owe  to  the  home  in- 
fluence and  maternal  influence,  see  how  much  you 
owe  to  the  influence  of  the  Bible.     It  was  the  Bible, 
remember  to-day,  that  gave  them  both  to  you ;  that 
made  home  represent  something  more  than  a  locality, 
and  "mother"  more  than  a  name.     It  was  religion 
which   clothed   these    with   moral   significance,    and 
enabled  them  to  minister  to  the  hi2:h  necessities  of 
your  natures.     Go  to  lands  where  the  Bible  is  un- 
known, and  what  does  home  mean  ?     Compare  the 
influence  of  a  heathen  mother  to  the  influence  of  a 
Christian  mother  upon  her  children.     Had  the  prov- 
idence  of    birth   located   you    in.  India  instead   of 
America,  in  Ceylon  instead  of  New  England,  what, 


DUTY   OF   CHRISTIANS   TO   SEND  273 

intellectually  and  morally,  would  you  have  been  to- 
day ?  Study  the  contrast  a  moment ;  and  let  a  cor- 
rect understanding  of  these  things  show  you  your 
indebtedness  to  this  book,  touching  which  millions 
of  human  beings,  as  immortal  as  you,  know  absolutely 
nothing.  Sajs  in  view  of  these  things,  whether  it 
is  a  mere  sentiment  which  has  urged  this  church  for 
sixty  years  to  come  together,  and  in  gratitude  to  God, 
and  in  acknowledgment  of  what  they  owe  to  the 
Scriptures,  to  contribute  of  their  substance  that  the 
Bible  may  go  abroad,  and  be  sent  on  its  beneficent 
mission  to  the  remotest  corner  of  the  globe. 

These  are  but  the  material  benefits  you  have 
derived  from  the  Bible  ;  and  how  vast,  how  multiform, 
they  are,  you  can  judge.  But  this  is  the  least  use 
that  it  serves.  The  material  and  civil  advantages 
that  attend  its  introduction  among  a  people  are  as 
nothing  beside  the  spiritual  blessings  it  confers. 
They  are  only  incidental,  —  merely  springs  and  chan- 
nels fed  by  the  one  noble  current  of  religious  emotion 
and  experience  on  which  the  hopes  of  man  as  an  im- 
mortal being  float.  The  true  use  of  the  Bible,  or  of 
any  agent  or  influence  to  man,  is  that  which  relates 
to  his  soul ;  which  brings  the  possibilities  of  moral 
education  to  him,  and  takes  the  element  of  uncer- 
tainty out  of  that  portion  of  his  existence  which  lies 
on  the  other  side  of  the  grave.  Had  it  taught  you 
only  how  to  feed  and  clothe  yourselves  properly, 
how  to  amass  wealth,  how  to  multiply  the  appliances 
of  culture,  it  would  not  be  the  book  that  it  is  to  you ; 
neither  would  there  be  any  special  moral  obligation 


274  THE   GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN   LANDS. 

resting  on  you  to  give  it  unto  others.  It  is  because 
it  has  taught  you  more  than  this  ;  because  it  has  re- 
vealed God  to  you,  made  you  aware  of  your  moral 
condition,  introduced  you  to  a  Saviour's  love,  to 
that  order  of  life^which  springs  therefrom,  and  to 
an  eternal  destiny  beyond  the  tomb, — it  is  because 
it  has  done  this  for  you  that  you  owe  to  it  a  measure- 
less debt,  and  to  man  a  duty  whose  performance  is 
imperative. 

Do  not  think  I  trifle  with  your  feelings,  much  less 
with  the  precious  name  of  Jesus,  when  I  inquire  at 
what  5^ou  value  your  faith.  For  what  would  you 
part  with  your  hope  in  Christ  ?  How  dear  is  it  to 
you?  "  Dearer  than  life,"  you  say.  "  I  love  my  Sa- 
viour better  than  father  or  mother,  better  than  coun- 
try, better  than  kindred.  I  owe  to  him  a  debt  greater 
than  I  can  ever  pay.  Perish  all  worldly  ambitions, 
vanish  all  worldly  joys,  parted  be  all  earthly  ties: 
leave  me  only  my  Saviour.  Let  but  my  hand,  amid 
the  overflowing  of  all  billows,  retain  its  hold  of  the 
cross,  and  I  will  rejoice  amid  my  tribulations,  and 
sing  psalms  in  the  night  of  my  sorrow."  But  is  the 
Saviour  more  to  you  than  to  a  man  in  India?  Is 
redemption  any  more  needed  by  you?  is  salvation 
sweeter?  is  heaven  dearer?  Do  you  stand  in  any 
greater  need  of  these  things  than  those  who  dwell 
in  tents  or  the  islands  of  the  sea?  Are  not  they 
immortal  as  well  as  you  ?  Do  they  need  a  Saviour 
less  ?  Is  there  not  a  great  brotherhood  of  birth,  of 
capacity,  of  destiny,  to  us  all  ?  Are  we  who  sit  in 
this  church  to-day,  enjoying  all  of  these  privileges, 


DUTY    OF   CHRISTIANS   TO   SEND  275 

blessed  with  this  full,  sweet  gospel  light,  —  are  we 
not  their  brethren  ?  Do  you  think  that  distance  in 
space,  that  difference  in  condition,  can  loosen  a  single 
strand  of  this  fraternal  bond  with  which  God  has  con- 
nected us  all  ?  Can  they  annul  the  obligation  which 
such  a  divinely-ordained  relationship  imposes  ?  No, 
my  friends  :  these  things  are  fixed  and  absolute  ;  they 
remain  and  abide  through  all  time.  Do  you  think 
that  when  you  have  done  your  duty  to  your  family, 
to  society,  to  your  country,  you  have  done  all,  dis- 
charged your  full  obligation  ?  Is  there  not  a  larger 
circumference  yet  lying  outside  and  beyond  all  these, 
of  which  you  are  the  centre  ?  Do  you  not  owe  some- 
thing, does  not  every  man  owe  something,  to  the 
world  at  large  lying  in  wickedness?  Is  there  not  a 
duty  he  owes  to  the  race  as  a  race  ?  Can  he  look  at 
all  those  miUions  that  live  in  India,  in  China,  in 
Arabia,  in  the  islands  of  the  sea,  and  say,  "  These 
are  nothing  to  me.  I  know  that  they  are  ignorant 
and  sinful ;  I  know  that  they  are  wretched  and  bru- 
tal :  but  I  am  not  responsible  for  their  condition  "  ? 
I  say  you  are  responsible.  If  there  is  any  way  by 
which  you  can  better  a  single  living  being,  then, 
from  the  day  when  such  a  possibility  was  born  to 
you,  you  are  responsible  for  every  undesirable  thing 
in  his  condition  from  which  you  might  have  relieved 
him.  To  that  extent  you  are  responsible  ;  and  your 
responsibility  was  not  caused  by,  neither  does  it  rest 
on,  any  election  of  yours,  but  upon  the  great  law  of 
co-existence  and  kinship  through  nature,  and  the  in- 
junction of  Almighty  God. 


276  THE   GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN  LANDS. 

Now,  the  voice  of  all  these  millions  is  coming  to  us 
to-day.  A  petition  signed  by  an  innumerable  multi- 
tude is  now  being  read  before  the  congress  of  your 
consciences.  It  asks  for  what  ?  What  is  the  burden 
of  this  prayer  coming  up  from  this  mighty  constitu- 
ency whom  we  have  been  elected  by  God  to  serve  ? 
Listen  now  while  the  spirit  of  universal  progress,  of 
universal  reconciliation  with  God,  publishes  it  aloud, 
and  sends  it  out  over  your  sleeping  hearts  as  a  bugle- 
call  is  sent  forth  over  a  slumbering  army,  calling  it 
to  arms. 

They  ask  for  the  Bible.  They  say  with  one  voice, 
with  one  gesture  of  entreaty,  "  Give  us  the  word  of 
God,  —  that  word  which  is  able  to  make  us  wise  unto 
salvation.  We  know  that  you  are  wise:  remember 
that  we  are  ignorant.  We  know  that  you  are  happy : 
remember  our  misery.  We  know  that  you  are  fa- 
vored: remember  our  hard  condition.  O  brothers! 
give  us  the  knowledge  of  Christianity."  This,  I  say, 
is  the  voice  that  comes  to  us ;  this  is  the  petition  sub- 
mitted to  you  to-day.  What  response  will  you  give 
to  the  voice?  What  action  will  you  take  on  the 
petition  ? 

You  know  what  the  action  of  this  church  has 
always  been  touching  this  matter.  Never  did  it 
deny  the  universal  brotherhood  with  the  race. 
When  the  slave  needed  a  champion,  it  found  one 
here.  When  the  nation's  peril  was  such  that  it 
needed  the  help  of  the  churches,  and  the  sanction  of 
religion  upon  its  course,  this  pulpit  proclaimed  fear- 
lessly the  great  prmciple  of  universal  brotherhood, 


DUTY  OF   CHRISTIANS  TO   SEND  277 

and  the  duty  of  patriotism ;  and  whenever  any  cause 
dear  to  man  and  accepted  of  God,  whether  from  the 
north  or  the  south,  from  the  east  or  the  west,  has 
come  to  this  building  for  help,  it  has  never  yet  been 
turned  empty  away.  This  is  the  glory  of  your  record, 
the  eminent  characteristic  of  your  history.  But  one 
cause,  or  rather  one  branch  of  the  great  cause,  has, 
from  the  very  commencement  of  your  career,  been 
received  with  unusual  interest,  with  most  touching: 
sympathy.  Whoever  else  might  forget  the  spiritual 
necessities  of  foreign  lands,  this  church  never  forgot 
them.  The  generations  that  have  worshipped  in  this 
room,  that  were  taught  devotion  at  this  altar,  and 
many  of  them  buried  from  this  house,  lived  and  died 
in  the  hope  that  the  name  of  Jesus  would  at  last  be 
known  in  every  land.  The  ambition  of  their  faith 
was  not  local,  but  cosmopolitan :  it  embraced  the 
world.  Year  after  year,  when  the  great  missionary 
undertakings  were  but  experiments,  when  returns 
were  small,  and  results  meagre,  they  never  faltered. 
Their  faith  never  wavered  for  an  instant.  They  had 
no  misgivings  as  to  their  duty.  They  kept  on  giving 
and  praying.  Whenever  one  passed  into  heaven, 
another  was  born  into  the  circle  of  their  service 
and  hope.  They  cast  their  bread  upon  the  waters ; 
and  God  returned  to  them  a  hundred-fold.  Other 
churches  were  formed,  flourished,  and  then  fell  into 
pieces ;  but  here  we  abide  unto  this  day,  blessed  of 
God,  and  filled,  I  trust,  with  the  Holy  Ghost. 

What  will  you  say  to-day  to  the  faith  and  hope  of 
your  past  f    Will  you  say  it  was  vain  ?  that  it  was 


278  THE   GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN  LANDS. 

foolish  ?  Shall  we,  or  shall  we  not,  add  another  link 
this  morning  to  the  golden  chain  that  God  has  thrown 
around  the  neck  of  this  church  for  its  honor  and 
ornament  ? 

It  is  often  said  that  the  work  of  the  Board  is  the 
work  of  the  churches ;  but,  strictly  speaking,  it  is  not 
the  work  of  the  churches,  but  of  the  individual  donors 
in  the  churches.  You  who  give  are  individually  repre- 
sented by  the  preachers  of  the  gospel  in  the  heathen 
world.  You  send  them  there ;  you  sustain  them 
there.  The  good  they  do  can  be  traced  back  to  your 
contributions.  You  who  are  accustomed  to  give  to 
this  cause  have  enlightened  man}^  a  darkened  mind, 
melted  many  a  stubborn  heart,  broken  many  a  cap- 
tive's chain.  Do  not  think  that  3^our  influence  for 
good  is  confined  to  America :  you  must  journey  far 
and  wide  if  you  would  behold  where  it  is  working 
like  the  leaven  in  the  loaf.  In  the  desert  and  jungle, 
in  the  temple  of  heathen  deities,  in  those  abhorred 
localities  where  men  eat  the  flesh  of  men,  so  brutal- 
ized are  they  by  sin,  you  are  represented,  and  rep- 
resented, too,  by  that  gospel  which  "  is  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth ;  to 
the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Gentile."  You  are 
here ;  but  your  agent  is  there,  doing  that  enno- 
bling work  whereunto  you  have  sent  him.  Heaven 
will  be  full  of  surprises  to  many  of  you ;  for  many 
whose  faces  you  never  saw  in  the  flesh  will  come  and 
greet  you  in  the  spirit-land,  and  say,  "  To  you  I 
am  indebted  for  the  knowledge  of  the  Saviour."  I 
often  think  that  you  who  are  thus  givers  to  Christ  will 


DUTY    OF   CHEISTIANS   TO    SEND  279 

wonder  at  nothing  —  no,  not  at  all  the  glories  of 
heaven  —  so  much  as  at  the  number  of  stars  in  the 
crown  of  your  reward.  You  had  never  preached; 
you  did  not  know  that  you  had  been  a  missionary ; 
you  could  not  recall  a  single  soul  you  had  led  to 
Christ,  and  yet  many  are  credited  to  you  in  the  book 
of  God's  remembrance.  I  mention  it  the  more  gladly 
because  of  the  uplifting  and  ennobling  thought  with 
which  it  is  connected.  You  are  here  in  Boston,  en- 
gaged in  a  purely  secular  life  from  day  to  day ;  but 
through  this  society  you  are  associated  with  the  great 
spiritual  movements  the  world  over,  and  that  army 
of  religious  teachers  which  is  doing  so  much  to  ele- 
vate and  save  mankind.  You  are  connected,  I  say, 
with  those  vast  demonstrations  of  organized  Christian 
effort  which  are  changing  for  the  better  the  habits 
and  customs  and  policies  of  nations  and  tribes.  You 
are  not  merely  denizens  of  this  city :  you  are  inhab- 
itants of  that  great  outlying  realm  of  spiritual  impulse 
and  fervor,  —  citizens  of  that  commonwealth  of  saintly 
men  and  women  who  legislate  the  pure  laws  of  the 
age  on  the  basis  of  the  gospel,  and  put  in  practice 
the  purest  code  of  morals  ever  published  to  the  race. 
You  are  of  the  number  of  those  who  lead  "  captivity 
captive,"  and  bring  good  "  gifts  unto  men." 

My  friends,  the  gospel  has  not  been  in  vain. 
The  earth  is  not  as  it  was.  Men  and  nations  are 
changed.  The  old  warfares  are  hushed :  their  roar 
and  murmur  have  died  away.  The  triumphs  of  this 
age  are  not  those  of  arms.  They  are  not  physical : 
they  are  moral.   We  have  at  last  realized  the  proverb, 


280      THE  GOSPEL  TO  HEATHEN  LANDS. 

that  "  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  better  than  he 
that  taketh  a  city."  The  heroism  and  prowess  of 
men  are  shown  through  other  media  than  the  knightly 
lance  and  brazen  shield.  Brute  force  is  no  longer 
king.  Mind  and  soul,  reason  and  conscience,  have 
possessed  the  throne,  and  rule  the  world  with  joint 
sovereignty.  The  victories  of  the  age  are  those  of 
peace  and  the  forces  that  produce  peace.  As  once 
it  was  a  disgrace  not  to  be  a  soldier,  and  bear  arms  for 
the  king ;  so  now  it  is  a  loss  of  credit  and  honor  not 
to  have  served  in  the  ranks  of  those  reforms  whose 
object  is  the  amelioration  of  mankind.  Who  lives,  in 
any  save  the  narrowest  sense  of  life,  to-day,  if  he  is 
unconnected  with  those  humane  and  religious  move- 
ments, which,  beyond  all  else,  will  make  this  age  mem- 
orable in  history,  —  who  lives,  I  say,  to-day,  if  he  has 
not  cast  himself  like  a  drop  in  the  majestic  current 
of  religious  effort,  willing  to  be  lost  if  he  may  only 
be  allowed  to  mingle  with  and  swell  the  tide  which 
floats  the  hopes  of  men  and  the  revealed  glory  of 
heaven  to  generations  yet  to  be  ?  To  breathe  is  not 
to  live.  Breath  and  physical  motion  are  but  the  re- 
sult of  that  machinery  which  we  have  in  common 
with  the  brutes.  To  live  is  to  think,  to  act,  to  love 
and  feel ;  to  keep  our  sympathies  in  the  front  rank  of 
human  progress ;  to  discipline  our  courage  by  every 
test  of  bravery  God  allows  ;  to  navigate  the  world  of 
being  and  of  effort,  as  ships  the  globe,  till  we  have 
sailed  the  full  sphere  of  opportunity,  touched  at  every 
port-,  and  voyaged  on,  until  at  last  the  soul,  like  some 
old  argosy  freighted  with  gold  and  spice  and  marvel- 


DUTY  OF   CHRISTIANS  TO  SEND  281 

lous  woods  strong  with  precious  odors,  comes  sailing, 
laden  with  the  rich  experiences  of  an  active  life, 
grandly  to  its  home. .    This  is  to  live  ! 

For  one,  I  rejoice  to-day  that  I  can  connect  myself, 
not  merely  with  the  agents  and  methods,  but  also 
with  the  result,  of  evangelization  the  world  over. 
Wherever  an  idol  has  been  burnt ;  wherever  a  hea- 
then temple  levelled ;  wherever  the  bloody  Juggernaut 
stands  idle,  its  heavy  wheels  unstained  with  suicidal 
blood;  wherever  gross  ignorance  once  was,  but  is  no 
more  ;  wherever  superstition  and  priestcraft  and  cruel 
force  have  been  supplanted  by  faith  and  liberty  and 
love, — there  I  stand,  joining  in  the  joy  of  the  delivered, 
and  the  greater  joy  of  the  deliverers.  Arabia  is  not 
far  distant.  Often  have  I  visited  it  in  thought,  and 
knelt  in  prayer  upon  its  sands,  praying  for  those  who 
make  those  sands  their  home.  China  is  not  an  un- 
known land,  unseen,  unloved,  by  me.  I  have  stood 
at  morn  and  night  amid  its  swarming  millions,  amid 
the  results  of  a  civihzation  old  when  Christianity  was 
born.  I  have  read  out  of  her  books,  that  were  hoary 
with  age  centuries  before  Europe  knew  how  to  print 
a  page.  And  as  I  have  thought  of  the  millions  who 
have  lived  and  died  for  ages,  of  those  other  millions 
living  and  dying  even  yet  without  the  gospel,  I  have 
felt  like  those  whom  John  saw  in  vision,  weary  of 
groaning  beneath  the  throne,  and  cried,  "  How  long, 
O  Lord  !  how  long  ?  "  Well  might  the  poet  invoke 
the  elements  of  air  to  aid  the  blessed  work  of  spread- 
ing far  and  near  the  knowledge  of  the  gospel.  Come, 
ye  winds,  to  whom  the  Spirit   is   likened,  and   ye 


282  THE  GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN  LANDS. 

waves,  that  send  your  undulations  round  the  globe,  — 
come  waft  and  roll  the  tidings  of  the  cross  from  pole 
to  pole.  Bear  the  living  seed  to  the  desert,  that  it 
may  bud  and  "blossom  as  the  rose."  We  make 
the  words  of  Scripture  ours,  and  say,  "  How  beauti- 
ful upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  him  that 
bringeth  good  tidings,  that  publisheth  peace  ;  that 
bringeth  good  tidings  of  good,  that  publisheth  sal- 
vation !  " 

The  relation  which  this  church  has  sustained  since 
the  Foreign  Board  was  formed,  has  been,  as  you  all 
know,  peculiarly  close  and  sympathetic.  Many  of 
your  proudest  memories  are  intwined  with  its  own 
as  flowers  of  the  same  color  and  fragrance.  The  first 
foreign  missionary  press  ever  projected  originated  here, 
and  one-fourth  of  its  entire  cost  was  given  by  this 
church.  That  press  was  like  a  kernel  of  seed-corn. 
It  has  since  multiplied  itself  a  thousand-fold.  All 
over  the  globe  a  hundred  presses  are  at  work,  print- 
ing in  almost  every  language  and  dialect  known  to 
man  the  words  that  bring  "  life  and  immortality  to 
light."  But  the  roots  of  this  mighty  power,  —  which 
I  can  liken  unto  nothing  but  the  tree  of  life,  whose 
"  leaves  are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations,"  —  are 
here;  and  when  the  Scriptures  shall  have  been  dis- 
seminated everywhere,  when  a  copy  of  the  Bible 
shall  have  been  put  into  every  hand,  and  the  histo- 
rian of  that  day  shall  search  for  the  parent  and  birth- 
place of  this  mighty  movement,  he  shall  find  them 
here.  The  roots  of  this  tree,  I  say,  can  be  found  only 
in  the  soil  beneath  this  pulpit. 


DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  TO   SEND  283 

How  I  might  multiply  historical  allusions  I  In  this 
church,  in  the  year  1819,  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  Octo- 
ber, a  little  band  of  seventeen  were  formed  into  a  church 
to  evangelize  the  Sandwich  Islands.  When  Mr.  Coan 
last  year  was  telling  you  from  this  desk  of  the  thou- 
sands and  thousands  born  unto  God  in  those  islands,  — 
showing  you  how  a  nation  had  been  born,  as  it  were, 
in  a  day, — did  you  recall  how  that  majestic  movement, 
which  gave  an  empire  to  Christ,  was  inaugurated  in 
this  room  ?  In  this  same  room,  —  even  here  where  we 
worship  to-day,  —  a  hundred  and  eighty  missionaries, 
an  audience  in  themselves,  have  received  their  part- 
ing instructions  and  benedictions.  From  this  room 
they  departed  to  their  fields  of  labor.  They  jour- 
neyed to  all  parts  of  the  globe.  They  went  forth 
as  ships  sail  out  into  fogs.  Many  never  returned: 
some  died  under  the  spear  of  the  savage ;  some 
were  beaten  down  by  tropical  heats ;  some  lived  the 
full  measure  of  their  years,  and  their  graves  are  wa- 
tered unto  this  day  by  the  tears  of  those  whom  they 
rescued  from  barbarism  and  brought  back  to  God. 
Is  it  an  extravagant  form  of  speech  to  say  that  I  see 
these  men  and  women  before  me  to-day  ?  They  stand 
clothed  in  white  between  you  and  me  !  They  hold 
harps  in  their  hands.  On  each  head  is  a  crown.  I 
know  not  the  name  of  any  ;  for  a  new  name  has  been 
given  unto  each.  It  is  printed  on  their  foreheads : 
each  letter  glows  like  a  ray  that  comes  from  the  heart 
of  a  diamond.  Would  that  they  might  speak ! 
Would  that  they  might  tell  you  what  they  endured, 
what  they  accomplished,  after  they  left  this  room, 


284  THE  GOSPEL  TO   HEATHEN   LANDS. 

until  God  took  them  !  Speak  to  us,  ye  true  heralds 
of  the  cross !  Speak  to  us  from  the  altar  of  that 
faith,  destined  to  be  universal,  on  which  you  laid 
yourselves  as  a  living  sacrifice !  Speak  from  those 
far-off  graves  where  the  swarth  hands  of  your  con- 
verts laid  you !  Speak  from  the  thrones  of  your  exal- 
tation in  heaven  !  Speak  from  the  circle  of  your  in- 
visible presence  in  this  familiar  room,  whose  air  at  this 
moment  you  seem  to  possess  !  Speak,  and  tell  us,  by 
the  apprehension  of  your  improved  intelligence,  what 
is  the  measure  of  our  duty  ! 

But  if  all  these  voices  should  be  hushed ;  if  this 
mighty  "cloud  of  witnesses  "  hovering  above  us  were 
silent,  and  no  sound  should  break  forth  from  its  vi- 
brant whiteness,  —  still  command  and  exhortation 
would  not  be  lacking.  A  voice  whose  authority  is 
higher  than  theirs,  whose  injunction  is  more  urgent, 
is  now  addressing  us  out  of  the  ineffable  glory  itself. 
Rarely  does  heaven  break  its  august  silence ;  rarely 
do  its  lips  condescend  to  human  speech,  or  deign  to 
take  upon  themselves  the  harsh  utterances  of  earth : 
but  now,  above  the  voices  of  "  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,"  above  the  expressed  solicitude  of  an- 
gels, whose  joy  it  is  to  minister  unto  the  saints,  like  a 
great  sound  which  moves  along  its  undulating  course 
through  perfect  silence,  descends  upon  us  the  com- 
mand of  God.  Shall  I  interpret  the  sound  to  you  ? 
This  is  the  command :  hear  it  as  coming  to  you  out 
of  heaven  :  "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the 
gospel  to  every  creature." 


SABBATH  MORJflJ^G,  JAJ^.  28,  1872. 


SERMON. 


TOPIC.-THE  ATONEMENT!   HOW  ENERGIZED,  AND  HOW  RESISTED. 
"Gkieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  ye  are  sealed 

UNTO  the  day  op  REDEMPTION." —EpheS.  iv.  30. 

THE  enmity  of  the  human  heart  to  God,  and  its 
manifold  depravities,  were  not  removed  at  the 
death  of  Christ,  as  I  have  shown  in  a  preceding  dis- 
course, but  remained  in  full  force  after  the  cruci- 
fixion. Pardon  was  offered,  and  refused.  Man  ab- 
solutely and  obstinately  rejected  the  overtures  of 
Heaven.  He  would  not  be  benefited  by  what,  at  an 
infinite  cost,  Heaven  had  provided  for  him.  Salva- 
tion was  possible  ;  but  none  would  be  saved.  Man's 
sinfulness  made  him  ungrateful,  blind  to  his  own 
interest,  and  persistent  in  wickedness ;  and  so  it 
became  necessary  that  a  system  of  enlightenment,  of 
persuasion,  of  regeneration,  should  be  inaugurated, 
that  the  death  of  Christ,  so  far  as  the  personal  salva- 
tion of  those  for  whom  he  had  died  was  its  object, 
might  not  be  in  vain.  It  was  necessary  that  man's 
eyes  should  be  opened  to  perceive  his  own  personal 
needs,  that  he  might  be  convicted  of  sin  and  danger, 

285 


286  THE  ATONEMENT: 

and  a  desire  to  be  reconciled  with  God  be  felt,  in 
order  that  he  might  ask  of  God  that  help  which  he 
could  now,  with  justice  to  himself,  freely  grant. 
Thus  it  came  about,  that,  at  the  ascension  of  Christ, 
the  Holy  Spirit  became  the  active  representative  of 
the  divine  endeavor  to  save  men.  When  Christ  de- 
parted, the  Spirit  came ;  came  to  take  his  place ; 
came  to  push  forward  to  its  completion  the  sublime 
work  which  Jesus  had  carried  only  up  to  a  certain 
point.  The  second  and  third  persons  of  the  Trinity 
have  officially  their  distinct  and  respective  work :  as 
the  Father  has  his  in  the  plan  of  atoning  for  human 
sin,  Christ  was  to  make  the  atonement,  while  the  Spirit 
was  to  incline  the  hearts  of  men  to  accept  it.  This, 
in  brief,  is  the  work,  the  mission,  of  the  Spirit.  As 
Christ  met  with  opposition  in  performing  his  part 
of  the  great  work  of  redemption ;  as  he  was  derided, 
resisted,  and  misunderstood :  so  now  the  Holy  Spirit 
in  his  endeavors  is  resisted,  derided,  and  misunder- 
stood. My  topic  then,  this  morning,  is  the  resist- 
ance which  men  in  their  wickedness  offer  to  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  his  efforts  to  save  them. 

The  fundamental  principle  upon  which  is  based  the 
necessity  of  the  Spirit's  assistance,  or  any  assistance 
beyond  that  which  man  can  render  himself,  is  this,  — 
that  wickedness  cannot  change  itself.  A  bad  inclina- 
tion never  becomes  a  good  inclination  by  any  process 
of  growth  or  change.  It  must  be  eradicated  by  some 
extraneous  force,  if  at  all.  There  is  no  faculty  of 
illumination  in  darkness :  lioht  from  abroad  must 
come  into  it  and  dispel  it,  or  it  will  remain  darkness 


HOW  ENERGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.        287 

forever.  So  it  is  with  sinful  qualities.  Sin  has  no 
desire  to  be  aught  else  than  sin :  if  it  had,  it  would 
not  be  sin.  Nor  has  it  any  power  to  change  itself. 
There  are  in  it  no  virtuous  forces  whatever.  It  can 
generate  and  propagate  only  after  its  kind ;  and 
against  this  proposition  neither  reason  nor  observa- 
tion can  advance  a  syllable  of  objection. 

But  what  is  the  sequence  of  this  position?  In 
order  to  grasp  it  fully,  inquire  where,  and  of  what 
character,  is  sin.  You  have  heard  men  talk  about 
sin  as  an  impersonal  matter,  an  unincarnated  prin- 
ciple or  tendency ;  something  horrid,  but  mysteri- 
ous ;  dreadful,  but  vague ;  a  principle  in  the  moral 
realm  as  incomprehensible  as  an  element  which  ever 
reveals  its  existence  in  terrible  hints,  but  which  has 
defied  the  skill  of  the  laboratory  to  analyze  and  lo- 
cate. But,  friends,  no  conception  can  be  more  erro- 
neous than  this.  Instead  of  sin  being  an  impersonal 
matter,  it  can  exist  only  in  connection  with  personal 
beings.  There  is  no  sin  in  hell,  save  as  expressed  in 
devils ;  there  is  none  on  earth,  save  as  felt  or  mani- 
fested in  man.  Sin  is  not  principle,  is  not  element, 
is  not  tendency :  it  is  perverted  intelligence ;  it  is 
force  purposely  misdirected ;  it  is  knowledge  and 
capacity  abused.  Why,  test  it  by  its  definitions. 
Say  sin  is  disobedience :  but  disobedience  implies 
an  agent,  and  agency  implies  an  act.  Say  that  it 
is  rebellion  :  but  rebellion  is  the  deed  of  a  rebel ; 
and  a  rebel  must  be  a  being,  spirit  or  man.  Say 
it  is  perversion,  "misdirection,"  —  the  mildest  word 
which  Theodore  Parker,  with  the  vocabularies  of 


288  THE  ATONEMENT  : 

twenty  languages  to  select  from,  could  possibly  find  : 
and  again  I  say  that  there  can  be  no  misdirection 
without  an  agent  to  misdirect ;  no  perversion,  unless 
you  have  intelligence  and  capacity  to  pervert.  This 
you  all  see ;  to  this  you  assent.  What,  then,  is  it 
in  which  we  are  all  agreed?  In  this,  I  respond;  viz., 
that  sin  is  unavoidably  connected  with  persons. 
There  is  no  evil  on  the  earth  that  is  not  incarnated. 
Christ  did  not  die  to  deliver  us  from  an  atmospheric 
element.  The  Spirit  does  not  war  against  impersonal 
qualities.  God  does  not  threaten  a  drift  or  tendency 
in  the  moral  realm  when  he  pronounces  his  curse 
upon  sin.  As  sound  must  have  a  medium  through 
which  to  travel,  or  it  is  not  sound ;  so  sin  must  have 
a  medium  of  expression,  or  it  is  not  sin.  Sin,  if  it 
exists  at  all,  exists  as  individualized  in  man  or  spirit. 
An  agent  is  the  antecedent  of  all  transgression. 
There  is  no  wickedness  independent  of  wicked  thought, 
purpose,  and  act. 

When,  therefore,  it  was  said  —  to  which  you  as- 
sented— that  sin  could  not  change  itself,  it  was  equiv- 
alent to  saying  and  assenting  to  this  proposition,  — 
that  the  sinner  could  not  change  himself.  It  is  only 
different  forms  in  which  to  state  the  same  identical 
truth.  Wickedness  cannot  become  goodness  of  its 
own  power :  therefore,  as  all  wickedness  exists  only 
in  connection  with  persons,  no  wicked  person  can 
become  a  good  person  unassisted  by  outside  help. 
And  this  is  precisely  the  position  that  the  Scripture 
takes,  as  in  Rom.  viii.  7  :  ''  The  carnal  mind  is  enmity 
against  God ;  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God, 


HOW  ENERGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.        289 

neither  indeed  can  be."  At  this  point  you  see 
wherein,  and  how  much,  every  one  of  us  is  depend- 
ent on  the  Spirit.  We  are  dependent  to  the  fullest 
measure,  to  the  extreme  extent,  of  incapacity.  Wicked 
by  nature,  we  are  unable  of  ourselves  to  grow  into 
any  thing  better.  What  the  fields  owe  to  the  solar 
light  and  warmth  we  all  owe  to  the  Spirit.  But  for 
it,  the  very  germs  of  holiness  would  have  rotted  in 
us,  and  our  souls  lain  forever  barren  and  unfruitful. 
There  is  not  a  star  in  all  the  firmament  that  owes  so 
much  to  the  sun  which  shines  upon  it,  and  by  whose 
reflected  light  it  glows,  as  we  owe  to  the  Spirit. 
There  is  not  a  bird  that  flies  more  dependent  on 
the  air  it  breathes,  and  beats  with  rapid  wing,  than 
we  are  upon  the  Spirit  of  God  for  every  breath 
and  movement  we  have  had  in  virtue.  To  sum  it 
all  up  in  the  most  absolute  of  all  forms  of  state- 
ment, we  owe  no  more  to  Christ  for  making  the 
atonement  for  us  than  we  do  to  the  Holy  Spirit  for 
inclining  us  to  accept,  and  rendering  us  able  to  ap- 
preciate it.  In  either  case,  the  necessity  was  abso- 
lute, and  the  favor  infinite. 

One  caution  at  this  point.  There  is  a  loose  way 
of  talking,  which,  I  fear,  is  spreading  the  idea  that 
none  but  professed  Christians  experience  the  work 
of  the  Spirit.  As  well  might  it  be  said  that  conserva- 
tories and  flower-gardens  and  well-tended  fields  are 
the  only  places  on  the  face  of  the  globe  that  feel  the 
rays  of  the  sun;  whereas  the  sun  shines  on  all 
with  impartial  ray.  The  Spirit,  like  Christ,  does  not 
labor  for  the  disciples  alone.     It  is  not  alone  to  bring 

18 


290  THE  ATONEMENT: 

forward  these  in  holiness  that  he  strives  ;  but  the 
publicans  and  sinners,  and  those  outside  of  the  fa- 
vored circle,  are  recipients  of  his  love  and  effort. 
The  Spirit,  it  is  true,  is  only  in  the  regenerated  heart ; 
but,  nevertheless,  he  stands  at  the  door  of  every  heart 
beating  among  men.  As  the  sun  is  on  the  ice,  so  is 
the  Spirit  on  the  impenitent  heart,  melting  it.  As 
the  rain  falls  on  the  flower  and  bramble  alike,  so  the 
gift  of  the  Spirit  is  given  to  all ;  this  being  the  dif- 
ference, —  that,  while  the  flower  converts  the  visita- 
tion into  sweetness,  the  brier  perverts  it  to  the  edging 
of  all  its  many  thorns.  But  as  with  Christ,  so  with 
the  Spirit,  the  guilt  of  rejection  implies  an  antecedent 
offer.  Solicitation  precedes  refusal.  None  "grieve 
the  Spirit"  who  have  not  felt  the  Spirit's  approach. 
At  the  door  of  every,  conscience,  whether  of  peni- 
tent or  impenitent,  the  Spirit  stands  to-day,  offering 
its  aid,  quickening,  praying,  commanding.  If  any 
of  you  hear  a  voice  saying  to  you  to-day,  "  Repent," 
"  Believe ; "  if  any  of  you  shall  have  longings  for 
a  nobler  life  rise  up  within  you ;  if  any  feel  the  up- 
braidings  of  a  guilty  conscience ;  if  any  shall  hear 
the  words  shaping  themselves  for  your  ear,  "iVbe^  is 
the  accepted  time,"  —  know  this,  that  the  Spirit  is 
fulfilling  his  work  upon  your  soul;  and  act  as  one 
who  stands  at  a  most  solemn  moment  in  his  earthly 
existence. 

Is  there  not  something  -inexpressibly  beautiful  in 
the  thought,  that  God's  Spirit  is  imparted  unto  all  ? 
The  rock  is  hard  ;  but  its  hardness  cannot  prevent 
the  warm  beam  from  falling  upon  it.     The  heart  may 


HOW  ENEEGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.       291 

be  hard ;  but  the  Sphit's  influence,  shot  like  a  ray  from 
the  orb  of  God's  mercy,  falls  lovingly  upon  it,  and  no 
hardness  can  turn  it  back.  There  is  something  large 
and  lavish  in  all  divine  operations.  God  is  full  and 
rich,  and  is  not  compelled  to  practise  a  cautious  econo- 
my in  the  outgoing  of  his  beneficence.  He  pours  his 
largess  down  upon  us  as  the  spring  rains  are  poured 
upon  the  earth,  —  upon  rock  and  barren  spot  as  truly 
as  upon  the  fruitful  soil.  And  in  nothing  is  this  pecu- 
liarity more  beautifully  illustrated  than  in  the  deal- 
ings of  the  Holy  Spirit  with  us.  Why  should  the 
Spirit  be  given  at  all?  Was  not  Christ  enough? 
Was  not  Calvary  a  sufficient  demonstration  of  Heav- 
en's love  for  man  ?  Does  it  not  suffice  when  a  man 
lies  down  and  dies  for  his  friend  ?  What  love  is  this 
which  supplements  Calvary  with  the  Spirit,  and  to 
the  gift  of  a  Saviour  adds  the  gift  of  the  Sanctifier  ? 
What  charity  is  like  the  charity  of  the  skies  ?  what 
benevolence  like  that  which  opens  the  gates  of  mercy 
to  the  rebellious,  and  still  prolongs  its  stay  to  guide 
them  thither? 

The  mission  of  the  Spirit,  then,  is  to  incline  the 
soul  to  accept  the  atonement  as  wrought  out  by 
Christ;  and,  after  it  has  accomplished  this,  to  develop 
the  justified  soul  in  Christian  graces.  To  this  end 
it  uses  many  agents  and  agencies.  By  truth  it  en- 
lio-htens  the  mind,  and  convicts  the  conscience ; 
through  providence  it  provides  the  occasions  and 
provocations  of  thought :  it  shocks  the  paralyzed  con- 
science into  life,  stimulates  the  reason,  and  puts  a 
premium   on  the   exercise   of   every  noble   faculty. 


292  THE  ATONEMENT: 

Allow  me  to  allude  more  fully  to  the  use  the  Spirit 
makes  of  truth 

This  is  what  Satan  hates  ;  for  it  is  his  direct  oppo- 
site. God  is  truth.  Satan  is  a  lie :  in  him  lurk 
all  the  springs  and  sources  of  deceit.  Falsehood  is 
his  child,  and  darkness  his  servant.  His  great  object 
is  to  deceive  men,  —  to  make  what  is  not  appear  as 
though  it  were,  and  what  is  as  though  it  were  not. 
The  sinner  is  a  deceived,  a  blinded  man.  A  wicked 
man,  in  old  Saxon,  meant  a  bewitched  man,  a  person 
under  the  potent  charm  of  an  evil  influence  or  spirit. 
Let  us  revive  the  old  significance  ;  for  in  the  epithet 
is  a  precise  description.  In  sin,  viewed  from  the  level 
of  corrected  judgment,  is  no  sense,  no  reasonableness. 
In  this  condition  the  Spirit  finds  man.  He  takes  truth, 
and  with  it  lights  up  the  man's  darkness.  With 
truth  he  tears  away  the  bandage  of  error  from  before 
the  eyes.  With  truth  he  starts  the  conscience,  which, 
like  a  long-checked  pendulum,  has  hung  in  motionless 
poise  ;  and  all  the  moral  sensibilities,  like  exquisitely- 
wrought  machinery,  are  set  in  motion,  each  faculty 
performing  its  office.  With  truth  he  frames  the  un- 
answerable argument  which  demonstrates  that  obedi- 
ence to  God  is  our  just  and  reasonable  service,  and 
urges  home  upon  our  conscience  the  duty  of  repent- 
ance. With  truth  he  kindles  remorse,  which  often, 
like  a  fire  lighted  amid  corruption,  burns  to  the  puri- 
fication of  the  soul.  With  truth  the  Spirit  unveils  the 
face  of  God,  and  shows  us  the  features  of  Divinity,  — 
that  face  in  which  all  nobleness  abides ;  but  chiefest 
over  all,  giving  fashion  to  the  countenance,  is  love 


HOW  ENERGIZED,  AND  HOW  RESISTED.       293 

for  man.  This  is  the  Spirit's  work,  and  the  use  he 
makes  of  truth. 

My  friends,  I  know  not  a  greater  crime  than  to 
resist  the  truth.  He  who  crushes  out  a  longing  after 
goodness,  he  who  fights  down  a  conviction  of  duty, 
he  who  resists  the  voice  of  conscience,  he  who 
persists  in  wickedness  when  virtue  is  made  known 
to  him,  he  who  hesitates  in  doing  what  he  knows 
he  ought  to  do,  acts  not  only  against  the  universal 
sentiment  of  honesty  and  justice,  but  against  the 
Spirit  of  the  living  God.  I  am  not  talking  of 
truth  in  the  abstract,  of  the  truth  of  mathematics,  or 
the  truth  of  the  sciences,  but  of  that  truth  in  thought, 
conscience,  and  feeling,  which  tells  you  what  to  do, 
and  how  to  live ;  to  what  to  cleave,  what  avoid.  Talk 
not  of  graves  where  sleep  the  dust  of  the  departed ; 
tell  me  not  of  tears  shed  at  the  base  of  marble  and 
granite  shaft,  nor  speak  of  hours  passed  in  mournful 
musing  beneath  the  willow's  shade.  The  graves  where 
angels  weep  are  in  the  hearts  of  men  ;  and  darker 
than  the  shade  of  cypress  are  the  shadows  which  rest 
above  the  spot  where  longings  for  a  better  life,  and 
resolutions  of  duty,  lie  buried. 

If  any  of  you  have  convictions,  which,  up  to  this 
time  left  unattended  to,  ought  now  to  be  obeyed, 
obey  them  ;  if  any  longings  hitherto  repressed,  cage 
them  no  more,  but,  like  birds  too  long  detained  from 
sun  and  native  skies,  let  them  have  liberty.  Say, "  Fly, 
thought  and  hope,  imagination,  and  all  the  winged 
faculties  of  my  soul,  —  fly  toward  heaven,  and  bear 
me  on  your  wiiigs !  "     If  any  have  felt  the  drawings 


294  THE  ATONEMENT  : 

of  the  Spirit,  but  have  resisted ;  if  any,  being  re- 
buked, have  hardened  their  hearts  against  the  Spirit's 
voice  ;  if  any,  convinced,  convicted,  have  halted  be 
tween  two  opinions,  —  resist,  delay,  no  longer  ;  j^ield. 
Even  as  a  rebellious  child,  smitten  by  the  grieved 
look  of  the  mother's  face,  repents,  and,  weeping,  flings 
its  arms  around  her  neck,  saying,  "  Mother,  forgive ! 
forgive  me,  my  dear,  patient  mother  !  "  —  so  cry,  and 
cast  your  arms  around  the  neck  of  God  to-day,  and 
you  shall  be  forgiven. 

The  Spirit  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  represent- 
ing all  those  tendencies  and  influences  which  incline 
your  soul  to  repentance  toward  sin,  and  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Christ  did  no  more  surely  die  to 
purchase  your  pardon  than  the  Spirit  lives  to  persuade 
you  to  accept  it.  The  love  of  the  one  for  you  is  no 
more  intense  than  the  love  of  the  other.  The  dignity 
and  excellence  of  each  are  the  same.  In  vain  might 
the  Sj)irit  have  existed  if  Christ  had  not  died ;  in 
vain  Christ  have  died  if  the  Spirit  had  not  come  to 
apply  that  death  to  man's  redemption.  If  there  is  to 
us  any  spiritual  understanding.  Christians,  any  dis- 
cernment and  apprehension  of  the  truth,  any  correct 
knowledge  of  our  own  condition,  it  is  entirely  due  to 
the  operation  of  the  Spirit  in  our  souls.  If  in  weak- 
ness and  poverty  any  of  you  have  ever  been  sus- 
tained, if  in  perils  delivered,  if  when  stricken  with 
grief  you  have  been  comforted,  it  is  due  to  the  in- 
dwelHng  of  the  Spirit.  If  the  future  impends  like  a 
star-ht  sky  above  you;  if  life  seems  full  of  noble 
uses,  and  dying  like  the  taking-on  of  a  larger  life,  — 


HOW  ENERGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.         295 

then  it  is  because  the  Spirit  has  taken  of  the  things 
of  God,  and  revealed  them  unto  you.  To  me  there 
is  nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  pious  reflection  so 
lovely  as  the  thought,  that  the  power  of  God  is  in  the 
hearts  of  all  true  believers,  working  out  therein  the 
peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness.  Passions  are  being 
subdued,  habits  corrected,  the  wicked  vagaries  of  the 
mind  checked,  the  iqiagination  purified,  and  every 
faculty  restored  to  its  original  state  and  use.  All  this 
under  the  direction  of  the  Spirit.  There  is  not  a  vir- 
tue not  born  of  the  Spirit ;  not  a  noble  impulse,  nor 
a  holy  longing,  of  which  the  Spirit  of  God  is  not 
the  direct  parent.  What  a  spectacle  it  will  be  when 
the  graces  of  all  the  sanctified,  the  ripened  fruits 
of  the  Spirit,  shall  be  grouped  around  their  great 
Author  in  heaven  ! 

Observe  what  liberties,  what  precious  freedom, 
come  with  the  Spirit.  I  have  heard  men  talk  as  if, 
when  man  yielded  himself  to  the  control  of  the 
Spirit,  he  subjected  himself  to  a  form  of  bondage ;  and 
even  Christians,  I  fear,  are  slow  to  learn  what  is  the 
liberty  of  the  children  of  God.  If  it  is  bondage  when 
eyes  that  have  not  seen  are  endowed  with  vision ;  if  it 
is  slavery  when  the  fetters  of  evil  habits  are  stricken 
from  the  soul,  and  it  is  enabled  to  elect  a  nobler  mode 
of  action ;  if  it  degrades  the  mind  to  have  its  igno- 
rance dispelled,  its  darkness  illuminated,  its  grossness 
refined,  —  then  does  the  coming  of  the  Spirit  bring 
bondage,  and  not  otherwise.  The  Spirit  never  em- 
ploys force.  He  knocks  before  he  enters  any  heart. 
He  respects  man's  independence.     He  modifies  con- 


296  THE  ATONEMENT: 

duct  through  the  inclinations.  He  can  be  resisted ;  he 
can  be  grieved ;  he  can  be  driven  away.  When  the 
soul  accepts  his  guidance,  it  is  by  a  free,  an  uncom- 
pelled  act  of  self-surrender. 

Let  us  observe  well  to-day  this  fact,  —  a  fact  which 
must  be  accepted  in  its  full  force  if  one  is  to  under- 
stand the  nature  of  the  Spirit,  or  realize  the  guilt 
of  rejection.  The  Spirit  will  never  attempt  the  exer- 
tion of  his  omnipotent  power.  Against  the  citadel 
of  your  opposition  he  employs  no  weapons  but 
those  of  love.  He  prevails,  if  at  all,  as  a  mother 
prevails,  —  by  the  strength  of  her  affection.  Solicita- 
tion and  entreaty,  counsel  and  reproof,  warning  and 
appeal,  —  these  he  will  use,  these  he  is  now  using, 
to  bring  you  to  accept  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  recon- 
ciliation with  God  through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ; 
but  beyond  this,  my  friend,  neither  now,  nor  at  any 
future  time,  will  the  Spirit  of  God  proceed.  With 
you  rests  the  decision.  In  your  own  mind  are  the 
forces  that  are  to  settle  the  question,  and  by  your 
own  free  choice  is  the  destiny  of  your  eternal  condi- 
tion to  be  fixed. 

Here,  then,  as  jury  on  your  own  condition,  you  sit 
to-day ;  and  this  is  the  question  to  decide  ;  "  Shall  I 
become  a  Christian,  or  not  ?  "  Put  the  proposition 
clearly  and  plainly  before  your  mind.  Let  the  query 
come  squarely  up  before  the  bar  of  your  conscience. 
Settle,  at  least,  one  thing  in  the  realm  of  morals 
to-day.  The  voice  of  the  Spirit  is  calling  to  some 
of  you.  If  the  sound  should  come  from  heaven  itself ; 
if  the  Holy  Ghost  should  take  shape  of  flesh  and 


HOW  ENERGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.        297 

blood,  and,  standing  revealed,  should  say,  "  Man 
of  sins  and  infirmities,  repent  of  your  sins,  and  be 
braced  with  power,"  —  the  call  would  be  no  more 
direct,  personal,  and  emphatic  than  it  is  to  your  soul 
in  its  secret  musings  and  debates  at  this  time. 

The  Spirit  uses  many  agencies,  and  operates  along 
many  lines  of  influence.  Now  reason,  now  memory, 
now  affection,  is  used ;  but  more  often  yet,  when  the 
subject  is  intelligent,  does  he  put  the  pressure  of 
some  strong  conviction  upon  the  soul.  If  any  of  you 
have,  therefore,  a  conviction  that  you  ought  to  become 
Christians,  you  can  safely  regard  that  as  the  particu- 
lar form  in  which  the  Spirit  is  now  addressing  you. 
If  your  mind  feels  the  pressure  of  this  obligation ;  if  it 
is  enlightened  to  such  an  extent  as  to  apprehend  duty ; 
above  all,  if  you  have  found  it  hard  to  escape  the  feel- 
ing that  now  is  the  time  for  you  to  act,  to  decide  this 
long-delayed  matter,  —  I  charge  you  to-day,  that  a 
grave  and  solemn  period  of  your  life  has  been  reached. 
Such  a  conviction  as  this  cannot  safely  be  trifled 
with.  You  are  in  the  most  favorable  position  that  an 
honest  and  sincere  man  can  possibly  be  in.  From 
where  you  stand  to-day,  the  path  of  duty  stretches 
broad  and  straight  before  you.  You  cannot  mistake 
your  position  or  your  duty.  The  avenue  that  com- 
mences at  the  very  point  at  which  your  feet  now 
stand  leads  on  and  up  until  it  terminates  at  the 
great  white  throne.  A  movement  of  your  mind, 
the  passing  of  a  thought,  a  resolution,  and  you  are  a 
Christian,  moving  on  in  company  with  those  who 
know  no  savior  but  their  Lord,  no  master  but  their 

13* 


298  THE  ATONEMENT: 

God.  Advance,  O  men  and  women !  Fling  doubt 
aside.  Away  with  hesitation :  to  hesitate  is  sin.  Ad- 
vance, I  say,  whither  the  Spirit,  through  your  con- 
science, is  incHning  you. 

There  is  no  graver  sin  in  the  world  than  to  act 
against  one's  convictions.  He  who  to-day  shuts  his 
eyes  to  the  light  deserves  darkness  to-morrow.  There 
is  but  one  star  by  which  a  person  can  safely  steer  ; 
it  is  duty.  Fade  all  other  lights,  sink  all  other  orbs, 
extinguished  be  all  other  beams :  let  only  this  point 
of  fixed  fire  remain,  and  it  shall  be  as  safe  to  sail  in 
life's  darkest  midnis^ht  as  if  we  moved  amid  the 
radiance  of  a  thousand  suns.  But  alas  for  the  soul, 
that,  seeing  it,  steers  not  invariably  by  it !  The  waters 
that  ingulf  men  are  wide,  cold,  and  deep :  death 
looks  up  from  their  leaden  depths  in  all  its  ghastly 
whiteness.  Dense  and  impenetrable  is  the  darkness 
around  those  who  shut  their  eyes  to  the  light ;  wild 
and  fierce  are  the  currents  against  which  men  contend 
who  neglect  to  do  what  their  conscience  tells  them 
is  right.  I  submit  if  this  is  not  true  even  in  the 
minor  matters  of  purpose  and  life,  —  even  in  our  treat- 
ment of  men.  Who,  then,  is  able  to  give  full  expres- 
sion to  its  truth  when  applied  to  the  question  of 
eternity  and  our  treatment  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  To 
stand  in  the  presence  of  such  considerations  is  enough 
to  shock  apathy  itself  into  anxious  thought,  and  cause 
even  an  idiot  to  look  grave.  For  a  soul  to  stand 
braced  in  stubborn  indifference,  when  all  the  forces 
of  love,  mercy,  and  honor,  urge  it  on ;  for  a  man  to 
hug  the  earth,  when  all  the  attraction  of  the  skies  is 


HOW  ENEEGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.        299 

centred  on  him  ;  when  heaven,  like  a  great  moral 
magnet,  is  drawing  him  upward  toward  itself,  —  is  a 
deed  no  one  can  do,  unless  he  has  been  visited  by 
and  has  resisted  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  is  the  deed 
which  no  one  can  commit,  save  at  long  intervals ; 
which  no  one  could  commit  often,  and  live  ;  and  which 
committed  once  too  many  times,  there  remains  for  it, 
through  all  the  kingdom  of  God,  no  more  forgive- 
ness. It  is  that  great,  dark,  unpardonable  sin,  that 
awful,  defiant  act  of  the  soul,  which  digs  a  chasm 
betwixt  it  and  reconciliation  with  God,  which  even  the 
cross  of  a  dying  Saviour  cannot  bridge.  But,  breth- 
ren, we  are  persuaded  better  things  of  you,  and 
things  that  accompany  salvation,  though  we  thus 
speak.  You  will  not  throw  away  the  chance  of  a 
lifetime.  You  will  not,  in  God's  own  house,  reject 
the  overtures  of  his  love.  You  will  not  harden  your 
hearts  to-day,  and  be  of  the  number  of  those,. who, 
having  ears  hear  not,  and  having  eyes  see  not,  the 
things  that  concern  their  salvation.  Once  more 
have  you  been  granted  an  audience  at  the  mercj'-seat ; 
once  more  are  the  sandals  and  the  robe  and  the  rinsr 
brought  forth  for  you.  Will  you  wear  them  ?  The 
Spirit  stands  waiting  for  your  answer.  Is  he  to  be 
grieved  again  ? 

It  may  be  that  some  of  you  hesitate  because  of  the 
very  greatness  of  your  sins.  If  so,  you  err.  I  have 
striven  in  all  my  preaching  here  to  give  you  true 
views  of  God ;  to  make  you  understand  that  his  love 
is  infinite,  and  that  to  forgive  is  his  delight.  May 
the  Lord  keep  you  from  an  unbelief  begotten  of  a 


300  THE  ATONEMENT: 

groundless  despair !  Sucli  despondency  is  unreasona- 
ble. Your  Father  in  heaven  is  not  one  who  is  natu- 
rally averse  to  you,  and  must  be  won  over  by  many 
arguments.  He  is  not  one  who  yields  only  to  the  force 
of  entreaty.  He  loves  you  not  as  the  result  of  your 
repentance.  This  is  not  God.  For,  all  these  years, 
God  has  been  wishing  to  forgive  you  :  he  has  searched 
for  a  reason  to  pardon  you ;  he  has  longed  for  an  op- 
portunity to  exhibit  mercy.  From  the  time  when 
you  began  to  sin,  he  has  been  studying  to  reclaim 
you.  Through  all  the  centuries  of  human  history  he 
has  been  seeking  and  saving  the  lost ;  gathering  all 
the  poor,  weak,  and  wretched  to  his  arms.  And  his 
arms  are  not  full  yet :  there  is  room  for  more ;  there 
is  room  for  you,  friend ;  there  is  room  for  us  all. 

You  must  never  try,  my  people,  to  put  a  human  esti- 
mate upon  God's  nature,  or  upon  that  mercy  to  man 
which  is  the  proper  expression  of  it.  His  thoughts  are 
not  our  thoughts,  nor  are  his  ways  our  ways.  Neither 
men  nor  angels  can  gauge  him.  He  is  a  marvel  even 
to  the  heavens,  —  a  marvel  of  love  and  condescension. 
The  blessed  spirits  around  him,  who  see  him  con- 
stantly, cannot  understand  him.  They  look  at  him, 
and  wonder;  they  gaze  and  adore.  Even  we  who 
have  been  saved  by  his  love,  we  who  are  daily  and 
hourly  sustained  by  it,  cannot  understand  it.  We  taste 
it ;  we  feed  on  it ;  we  are  grown  by  it.  But  what  do 
we  know  of  the  Almighty  Being  from  whom  it  comes  ? 
No  more  than  the  happy,  sleepy-eyed  babe  on  the 
mother's  breast  knows  of  the  working  of  the  mother's 
heart  toward  it,  or  the  far-reaching  thoughts  of  the 


HOW  ENERGIZED,   AND  HOW  RESISTED.        301 

mother's  mind.  The  httle  thing  can  take  of  the  moth- 
er's life ;  but  what  does  it  know  of  the  mother's  Ufe  ? 
Compare  the  body,  the  mind,  the  soul,  of  the  mother, 
with  the  body,  mind,  and  soul  of  the  child,  and  tell 
me  how  the  child  can  understand  the  mother,  the 
babe  comprehend  the  woman.  And  so,  as  I  picture 
it,  is  this  divine  love  that  holds  us  and  bends  over  us. 
The  whole  race  is  only  a  babe  in  its  arms.  It  feeds  us ; 
it  clothes  us  ;  its  breath  and  touch  are  on  us  ;  when 
we  are  gathe:!:ed  to  its  heart,  we  are  made  warm  and 
happy.  But  who  in  all  the  race  can  understand  it? 
Not  one.  It  is  the  mystery  of  God  and  of  life,  the 
wonder  of  the  earth,  and  the  marvel  of  eternity. 

And  now,  friends,  listen  to  me.  Before  I  close,  I 
have  a  great  truth  to  tell  you,  —  a  truth,  I  trust,  you 
will  never  forget.  This  great,  divine  love  is  the  love 
which  is  seeking  and  claiming  you  to-day  for  its  own. 
Picture  it  to  your  minds  :  see  it  standing  before  you, 
its  face  aglow,  its  arms  outstretched,  its  lips  parting 
for  speech.  "  My  child,"  it  says,  "  I  have  waited 
long  for  you.  I  thought  you  would  relent.  I  knew 
you  would  repent  at  last.  My  patience  has  its  re- 
ward. Come,  my  child,  come.  At  last  I  have  you  in 
my  arms."  Is  it  true,  friend?  Have  you,  at  last, 
put  yourself  into  the  arms  of  God  ? 


SABBATH  MORJS'IKG,  FEB.  4,  1872. 


SERMOK 


TOPIC-SAVING  THE  LOST. 
The  parable  of  the  lost  sheep.  — Luke  xv.  3-7. 

THE  audience  to  which  Christ  delivered  the  para- 
ble that  I  have  read  you,  and  the  two  with 
which  it  stands  in  close  conjunction,  was  a  remarkable 
one.  It  is  described  in  the  following  words  of  Luke  : 
"  Then  drew  near  to  him  all  the  publicans  and  sin- 
ners for  to  hear  him."  "This,"  says  Trench,  "does 
not  imply  that  at  any  particular  moment,  in  a  certain 
neighborhood,  this  class  drew  near  to  hear  him ;  but 
the  evangelist  is  rather  giving  the  prevailing  feature 
of  the  whole  of  Christ's  ministry,  or  at  least  of  one 
epoch  of  it ;  that  it  was  such  a  ministry  as  to  draw 
all  the  outcasts  of  the  nation,  the  rejected  of  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees,  around  him ;  that  there  was  a 
secret  attraction  in  his  person  and  his  word  which 
drew  all  of  them  habitually  to  him  for  to  hear  him." 
He  did  not  repel  them,  as  many  of  his  professed  fol- 
lowers have  and  do  the  like  classes  of  our  day  and 
generation.  He  did  not  fear  pollution  from  their 
touch.     He  did  not  so  mistrust  his  own  goodness.    He 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  303 

did  not  feel  so  anxious  as  to  what  the  purists  of  his 
time  would  say  about  it,  that  he  dare  not  be  seen 
talking  with  those  whom  he  wished  to  better.  He 
was,  rather,  so  intrenched  in  his  goodness,  so  per- 
vaded with  the  one  desire  to  benefit  them,  that  it 
never  occurred  to  him  that  the}"  would  or  could  hurt 
him.  He  had  come  "  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost;  " 
and  here  they  were.  It  was  to  reach  and  benefit  just 
such  people  that  he  left  heaven.  He  greeted  them 
graciously,  therefore,  instructed  them,  won  upon 
their  regard,  and  lived  as  a  benefactor  should  on 
familiar  terms  with  those  whom  the  Pharisees  called 
wretches.  It  was  "  wretches  "  that  Christ  came  to 
save ;  and  he  found  them  on  every  hand,  no  more 
and  no  less  than  any  of  you  who  profess  his  name 
can  find  in  Boston  to-day,  if  you  w411  only  go  from 
house  to  house,  and  street  to  street,  preaching  in  such 
a  wise,  winning  way  as  Christ  employed.  What 
wonderful  illustrations  he  used !  —  how  homely  !  how 
apt !  how  suggestive  !  If  they  had  gone  to  the  syna- 
gogues, they  could  not  have  understood  the  scribes 
and  the  doctors  of  the  law,  mumbling  over  the  tradi- 
tions and  the  creeds  of  the  Jewish  fathers ;  and  as 
for  the  Pharisees,  they  knew  that  they  were  hypo- 
crites, and  enjoyed  nothing  better,  doubtless,  than  to 
hear  Christ  stand  up  and  tell  them  plainly  to  their 
faces  what  they  were.  But  here  was  a  young  man 
that  did  not  despise  them  and  call  them  hard  names, 
but  gave  them  credit  for  all  the  good  that  was  in 
them,  and  treated  them  like  human  beings,  —  almost 
as  if  they  were  his  brethren ;  who  told  them  beau- 


304  SAVING  THE   LOST. 

tiful  stories  that  always  had  a  point  to  them,  and  set 
them  thinking,  and  sometimes  drew  tears  from  their 
eyes:  and  he  always  closed  with  an  entreaty  for 
them  to  be  good,  or  an  expression  of  hope  and  en- 
couragement ;  or  else  would  tell  them  to  ask  of  God 
any  favor,  and  he  would  give  it  them.  My  friends, 
are  you  quite  sure  but  that  we  must  have  done  with 
all  our  relying  on  law  to  better  men,  and  with  bluster 
and  denunciation,  and  copy  more  from  the  sweet  gen- 
tleness of  Christ,  before  the  publicans  and  sinners  of 
our  age  will  gather  to  hear  us  gladly  ? 

The  sinner  is  set  forth  in  the  parable  as  a  silly ^ 
wandering  sheep.  And  it  suggests  what  is  true, — 
that  sin  is  not  always  a  matter  of  premeditation.  Sin  is 
oftentimes  an  ignorance,  a  misunderstanding,  a  dark- 
ness of  mind.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  being  am- 
bushed morally ;  of  being  unexpectedly  set  upon  and 
captured  before  you  have  time  to  rally  your  powers 
of  resistance.  Men  do  not  sit  down  and  deliberately 
plan  out  evil,  and  pledge  themselves  to  it.  A  young 
man  does  not  at  eighteen  say,  ''Now  I  will  Avaste  my 
time  and  squander  my  money,  ruin  my  health,  and 
hurt  as  many  by  my  influence  as  I  can."  That  is  not 
the  way  the  thing  is  done.  It  would  not  be  true  to 
so  represent  it,  any  more  than  it  would  have  been 
true  for  Christ  to  have  represented  the  sheep  as 
getting  together  in  one  corner  of  the  fold,  and  saying, 
"  Now  let  us  get  out  and  run  off  into  the  woods,  and 
get  bitten  by  wolves,  and  be  killed."  Neither  sheep 
nor  men  act  in  that  way.  Men  wander  off ;  they  get 
led  astray ;  they  get  farther  away  from  virtue  than 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  305 

they  ever  expected  to  be ;  they  are  lost  before  the)' 
know  it.  Looking  at  him  from  one  point  of  view, 
the  sinner  is  to  be  condemned ;  looking  at  him  from 
another,  he  is  to  be  pitied.  In  this  latter  light 
it  is  that  the  parable  presents  him  to  us.  It  is  in 
this  light  that  Jesus  was  continually  looking  at  men. 
"  I  came  not,"  he  said,  "  to  condemn  the  world,  — 
that  is  not  the  object  of  my  mission, — but  that  the 
world  throus^h  me  mig^ht  be  saved^ 

My  friends,  let  us  catch  the  spirit  of  the  Saviour  as 
we  go  m  and  out  among  men.  Let  us  settle  upon  some 
plan  of  conduct,  some  style  of  treatment.  As  a 
preacher,  I  have  had  to  decide  which  is  the  most  effi- 
cient, the  most  Christ-like  way  to  approach  men  in  pre- 
senting the  gospel.  Some  think  I  have  made  a  mistake ; 
that  I  do  not  threaten  enough  ;  do  not  attempt  to  ter- 
rify enough  ;  do  not  preach  the  law  and  judgment  as  I 
ought.  But,  friends,  I  do  not  think  that  these  critics 
are  right.  I  cannot  find  any  such  roughness  in  Christ. 
He  instructed  men;  he  enlightened  them.  He  touched 
their  hearts  by  his  all-including  sympathy.  He  won 
their  affection,  and  made  his  life  a  sacrifice  for  them. 
But  he  did  not  thunder  and  blaze  away  at  them.  He 
did  not  scold  and  threaten,  and  try  to  frighten  them 
with  horrible  pictures  of  what  would  happen  to  them 
if  they  did  not  love  him,  and  do  as  he  told  them  to 
do.  But  he  told  them  of  God,  and  made  them  love 
him  by  showing  how  deeply  and  warmly  he  loved 
them.  He  educated  the  moral  sense  in  their  hearts, 
which  is  the  sole  parent  of  obligation.  He  made  the 
best  feel  they  were  not  good  enough,  and  the  worst 


306  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

feel  that  tliey  might  be,  and  ought  to  be,  better. 
And,  to  ray  mind,  much  of  the  preaching  that  has 
been  since,  and  much  which  has  been  printed  and 
read  by  the  churches,  is  simply  shocking.  It  is  no 
more  like  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  than  a  thunder- 
cloud is  like  sunshine,  or  a  December  tempest  like  a 
June  day.  The  one  is  bitter  and  biting ;  it  smites 
and  tears  all  the  foliage  away :  but  the  other  makes 
all  the  repressed  juices  to  start,  and  the  leaves  to 
unfold  themselves,  and  all  the  buds  to  flush  in  pink 
and  red.  The  one  strips :  the  otlier  clothes  the 
landscape  in  life  and  beauty.  -  I  think  the  man  who 
preaches  nearest  to  the  sentiment  of  tliese  parables  I 
have  read  you,  preaches  nearest  as  Christ  preached, 
and  as  he  to-day  wishes  his  servants  to  preach ;  and 
all  I  ask  or  desire,  as  a  preacher,  is,  that  the  spirit 
which  pervades  these  words,  and  fills  all  this  chapter 
as  a  spray  of  heliotrope  fills  a  room  with  fragrance, 
may  more  and  more  fill  my  heart,  and  be  yielded 
forth  in  all  my  words,  when  I  talk  to  you  of  your 
sins,  and  your  salvation  therefrom  through  the  mercy 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  lesson  I  wish  you 
who  are  sabbath-school  teachers  and  mission-school 
teachers,  and  you  who  are  officers  in  this  church,  and 
all  you  who  are  in  any  sense  co-laborers  with  me,  to 
learn  to-da}^  at  this  point,  is,  to  copy  more  after  Christ 
when  you  talk  to  men  about  moral  duty  and  their 
souls'  salvation.  Men  are  like  ice.  You  can  melt 
them  sooner  by  being  warm  toward  them,  by  cen- 
tring the  rays  of  a  great,  earnest,  glowing  love  upon 
them,  than  by  going  at  them  with  hammers  of  threat 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  d07 

and  warning,  and  trying  to  beat  them  down  and  pul- 
verize them.  Sandstone  kind  of  men  can  be  treated  in 
that  way  ;  but,  when  you  hit  a  man  in  that  style  made 
of  granite,  the  hammer  recoils  to  the  injury  of  the 
palm  that  held  it.  June  is  better  than  December  to 
quicken  life  and  growth  in  the  natural  world  ;  and,  if 
you  want  people  to  blossom  and  get  fruitful  spiritu- 
ally, pour  around  them  the  warm,  genial  atmosphere 
of  God's  penetrative  and  stimulative  love. 

The  contrast,  as  you  observe,  in  the  parable,  is 
not  entirely  perfect ;  the  antithesis  is  not  exact.  A 
sheep  that  wanders  from  the  flock  is  not  necessarily 
lost ;  he  is  not  irrecoverably  gone.  He  may  tire  of 
his  wanderings,  and  yearn  for  the  companionship  of 
the  flock.  This  desire  may  prompt  him  to  retrace  his 
steps.  His  remembrance  of  the  direction  he  took 
when  he  went  astray  may  be  sufficient  to  direct  his 
return ;  or  by  a  happy  fortune,  mere  luck,  he  may 
unexpectedly  stumble  upon  the  flock,  and  be  guided 
safely  again  by  the  good  shepherd's  voice.  And  thus, 
as  you  see,  a  sheep  that  has  wandered  may  of  him- 
self return  to  the  flock,  or  by  good  fortune  be  deliv- 
ered from  danger,  and  restored  to  safety. 

But,  friends,  this  is  not  true  of  God's  sheep.  It  is 
not  true  of  men  and  women  who  wander  from  vir- 
tue. There  is  in  sin  a  centrifugal  tendency.  The  soul 
that  starts  from  the  centre  of  virtue  is  flung  farther 
and  farther  away  from  it.  Sin  has  no  virtuous  incli- 
nations :  it  is  wicked  in  inception,  and  wicked  in  con- 
tinuance. A  current  can  as  well  of  its  own  power 
roll    back  upon  itself   as  that  sinfulness  of  its  own 


308  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

volition  can  turn  heavenward.  The  soul  that  is  led 
astray  by  it  is  led  farther  and  farther  astray :  it 
plunges  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  wilderness.  The 
wolves  that  pursue  are  re-enforced  at  every  gorge. 
Every  chasm  adds  a  fiercer  mouth  and  a  deadlier 
hate  to  the  blood-thirsty  pack.  Hell,  once  on  track 
of  a  man,  gives  him  no  time  to  think,  no  chance  to 
turn.  Its  aim  is  capture  ;  and  the  end  of  its  chase  is 
death.  If  the  lost  soul  is  found,  it  must  be  because 
the  shepherd  goes  out  to  find  it;  if  the  wandering 
spirit  is  reclaimed  to  virtue,  it  must  be  because  the 
searching  love  of  God  has  gone  out  after  it,  and  found 
it,  and  brought  it  back. 

My  friend,  I  trust  that  you  will  not  underrate  the 
significance  of  these  divine  influences,  and  those  di- 
vinely-appointed agents  which  are  sent  out  in  warn- 
ing and  argument  and  entreaty  to  prevent  you  from 
farther  wandering.  Recognize  reverently  and  gladly 
to-day  their  source  and  value.  The}"  are  God's  mes- 
sengers to  bring  you  safely  back  to  that  innocence,  to 
that  rectitude,  from  which  you  may  have  wandered. 
My  voice,  this  holy  da}^  the  sanctuary,  this  worship- 
hour,  —  all  represent  the  wish  and  will  of  Heaven 
ibr  your  conversion.  They  come  to  you  as  the  voice 
of  a  father  to  his  lost  child  in  the  night,  who  is  run- 
ning wildly  about  he  knows  not  whither,  saying, 
"  This  way,  my  son,  this  way  :  father  is  here  !  "  God 
is  so  calling  to  many  of  his  sons  in  this  house  to-day. 
If  there  is  an  impenitent,  a  careless  soul  present,  I 
would  say  to  him,  Every  moment  that  ^'ou  remain 
as  you  are,  you  are  getting  farther  and  farther  from 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  309 

God  and  heaven  and  hope.  You  may  not  intend  to 
be  carried  away ;  you  may  think  tiiat  you  are  not 
being  ;  but  you  are.  The  law  that  works  in  you, 
that  moulds  your  life,  and  directs  it,  is  the  law  of  evil 
influence,  and  accumulates  itself  momentarily.  You 
are  like  a  bird  caught  in  the  path  of  a  gathering  tor- 
nado. You  are  powerless  to  breast  its  increasing 
current  of  fierce  violence.  You  are  but  a  bunch  of 
streaming  feathers  and  quivering  flesh,  pitted  against 
a  power  which  uproots  the  oaks,  and  starts  the  very 
turf  on  the  sides  of  the  mountains.  There  are  but 
two  possible  decisions  for  you  to  reach, — either  yield 
to  the  wind,  and  be  borne  to  death  ;  or  mount  with 
one  bold  push  of  purpose  and  nerve  above  the 
pitiless  sweep  of  the  tempest  into^the  tranquil  and 
unvexed  spaces  overhead.  No  man,  no  woman,  can 
remain  in  the  current  of  sin,  and  live.  Tiiere  is  not 
a  person  of  all  you  who  are  present,  there  is  not  a 
person  in  this  city,  or  in  the  world,  that  can  put  him- 
self into  the  current  of  his  sinfulness,  in  the  whirl- 
ing and  writhing  and  onrushing  violence  of  it,  and 
not  be  hurled  and  beaten  down  upon  the  adamant  of 
God's  justice,  and  killed.  Do  not  believe  those  who 
tell  you  that  sin  can  redeem  itself :  it  never  did  it, 
and  it  never  will  do  it.  The  wandering  soul  never 
wanders  into  heaven,  never  regains  the  fold  it 
has  wickedly  left,  by  luck.  No  delay,  no  length  of 
time,  will  bring  you  to  it.  You  must  yield  yourself 
to  the  arms  of  the  Shepherd,  and  let  him  carry  you 
back,  if  you  are  ever  to  get  back.  Why  not  yield  to- 
day ?    Why  not  say,  "  Good  Shepherd,  take  me  in  your 


310  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

arms,  and  cany  me  back  whence  I  have  strayed  to-day. 
I  am  lost ;  I  am  bewildered ;  I  have  no  confidence 
in  myself.  Do  thy  will  with  me.  Only  let  me'  feel, 
before  the  sun  sets  to-night  and  I  have  time  to  AV^an- 
der  farther,  that  the  gates  of  thy  love  infold  me,  and 
the  angels  of  thy  care  fence  me  from  danger  while  I 
sleep  "  ?  This  is  penitence  ;  this  is  conversion  ;  this 
is  the  very  embodiment  of  salvation. 

My  people,  refresh  your  memories  to-day  with  the 
real  object  of  Christ's  incarnation.  He  did  not  come 
to  publish  certain  sublime  truths.  He  did  not  come 
to  found  a  church,  to  build  up  a  religious  hierar- 
chy, to  introduce  habits  of  prayer,  and  peculiar 
views  of  God  and  duty.  He  came  absorbed,  rather, 
with  one  thought,  —  devoted  to  one  sublime,  un- 
selfish mission.  It  was  to  go  after  his  lost  sheep. 
This  yearning,  this  irrepressible  desire,  it  was 
which  burned  and  glowed  in  his  whole  life,  as  the 
pure  fire  glows  in  the  diamond.  This  it  was  which 
gave  fervor  and  intense  beauty  to  his  life.  He 
never  took  a  step,  he  never  made  a  motion,  in  the 
flesh,  that  was  not  in  the  direction  and  for  the 
recovery  of  some  lost  one.  He  was  continually  turn- 
ing his  ear  to  catch  some  cry ;  continually  straining 
his  eye  to  find  some  flying,  pursued  form  to  succor 
and  defend.  As  he  declared  with  his  own  mouth, 
the  very  object  of  his  coming  was  to  seek  and  save 
that  which  was  lost.  Before  Christ  came,  who  cared 
for  the  lost  ?  Who  cares  for  the  bleacliing  bone  in 
the  wilderness  ?  —  it  may  be  the  bone  of  an  ox,  or  a 
dog,  or  a  man  :  who  cares  which  ?    It  is  a  dry  and  life- 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  311 

less  bone,  and  nothing  more.  It  has  no  connection 
with  our  beating  flesh,  no  rehition  with  our  living 
thought.  AVho  cares  for  the  shell  on  the  shore  ? 
The  waves  have  heaved  it  up  from  the  caverns  of  the 
deep,  and  ground  it  into  the  sand ;  there  let  it  lie. 
What  hunter  cares  for  the  scattered  feathers  which 
some  fierce  hawk  has  torn  from  the  back  and  breast 
of  its  prey  ?  Why  mourn  over  a  bunch  of  soiled  plu- 
mage ?  Had  the  hunter  seen  the  hawk  pounce  on  it, 
he  might,  perchance,  have  shot  the  hawk,  and  spared 
the  bird ;  but  the  bird  is  lost.  Why  look  ?  why 
mourn  ?  why  care  ?  So  little  man  cared  for  man  be- 
fore Christ  came.  The  life  of  Christ  was  wonderful, 
because  it  was  full  of  deeds  nobody  else  had  ever 
done.  His  words  were  marvellous,  because  they  were 
such  as  no  one  else  had  ever  spoken.  His  very  sym- 
pathies were  a  revelation.  No  other  bosom  had  ever 
felt  them.  He  took  the  world  by  surprise.  He  was 
original,  unique ;  a  puzzle  and  a  problem  to  the  best 
men  of  his  day.  Hypocrites  deemed  him  a  hypocrite 
like  themselves,  only  acting  with  greater  cunning. 
He  was  too  good  for  the  wicked  to  believe ;  he  was 
too  good  for  the  best  to  appreciate.  His  very  disci- 
ples grew  to  understand  him  slowly  and  by  degrees. 
They  never  did  fully  understand  him  until  he  was 
taken  from  them.  They  needed  to  be  enlightened  by 
the  Spirit  before  they  could  apprehend  whom  .and 
what  they  had  had  with  them.  It  was  only  after  the 
Spirit  descended,  quickening  them,  that  they  under- 
stood his  mission,  and  began  to  be  kindled  and  to  burn 
with  his  own  enthusiasm  for  souls.     Then,  and  only 


312  SAVING   THE   LOST. 

then,  it  was  that  they  started  out,  inspired  with  the 
spirit  of  their  Master. 

My  people,  let  us  remember  this.  Let  us  file 
through  the  hard  shell  of  creed  and  formula,  until 
we  come  to  the  real  kernel  of  our  Christian  life. 
Let  us  resist  the  wrapping  and  covering  up  in 
form  and  ceremony,  in  definition  and  pious  habit, 
this  primal,  generic  idea  of  our  faith.  It  is  easy  to 
multiply  dogma,  easy  to  magnify  the  value  of  precise 
theological  statement  (and  I  do  not  say  that  such  do 
not  have  their  uses)  ;  but  to  my  mind  they  are  merely 
husks  in  which  growth  has  incased  the  kernels, — 
merely  moss  which  the  ages  have  accumulated  on  tlie 
front  of  that  chiselled  rock  on  which  our  hopes  are 
built.  Strip  away  the  husks,  and  fling  them  to  the 
winds ;  but  the  corn,  rich,  nourishing,  and  golden, 
will  appear.  Scatter  the  moss,  and  there  before  your 
eye,  without  vestment  or  covering,  bare,  unscreened, 
as  hewn  from  all  eternity,  stands  the  rock,  Christ  Je- 
sus, embodying  this  grand  conception,  and  saying  to 
all  human-kind,  "  Come,  ye  shattered  men  ;  come,  ye 
women  riven  in  your  hopes  of  a  purer  womanhood ; 
build  on  me,  who  am  the  only  sure  foundation,  and 
you  shall  stand  in  the  day  when  the  mountains  them- 
selves shall  fall." 

Let  us  all  learn  afresh  to-day  the  lesson  of  Christ's 
life.  Let  us  penetrate,  -I  say,  in  thought,  through  the 
opposition  of  theological  and  formularistic  strata,  until 
we  lay  bare  the  primeval  granite  which  underlies  the 
entire  gospel  structure.  Let  us  so  carve  this  thought 
on  the  tablet  of  our  memories,  that  the  friction  of  time 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  313 

shall  never  erase  it,  —  some  of  us  as  a  matter  of  hope, 
some  as  a  matter  of  guidance  in  our  labors,  —  that 
Christ  came  "  to  seek  and  save  the  Zos^."     This  was 
the  object  of  his  incarnation ;  this  the  sublime  mo- 
tive which  prompted  him  to  take  flesh.     Ask  him  as 
he  stands  on  the  portico  of  the  temple,  beset  with 
temptation,  why  he  came  ;  and  the  voice  which  quiv- 
ers downward  through  the  air  is,  "  To  save  the  lost^ 
Ask  him  as  he  rises  from  his  agonizing  prayer  in  the 
garden,  when  a  thicker  darkness  than  subsequently 
draped  the  earth  lies  on  his  soul ;  and  he  says  again, 
"  I  came  to  save  the  lost."     Ask  him  as  he  sinks 
fainting  beneath  the  cross ;  and  amid  his  panting  are 
shaped   the  selfsame  words, — "To  save  the  lost.''' 
Ask  him  as  he  hangs  on  the  cross  itself,  about  to 
yield  up  the  ghost ;  and  his  quivering  lips  reply,  "  I 
came  to  save  the  lost ;  and  here  my  task  is  finished." 
And  if  you  should  ask  once  again,  —  even  as  he  was 
ascending,  —  down  from  the  deepening  glory,  as  he 
rises  and  as  he  disappears,  descend  the  words,  "  I  came 
to  seek  and  save  the  lost."     Not  only  to  save,  but  to 
seek.    Who  here  can  measure  this  seeking  love  of  God  ? 
How  many  of  us  present  can  rejoice  in  it  ?     We  were 
sought  after ;  we  were  discovered ;  we  were  found. 
Many  of  us  were  far  from  Christ  when  he  came  out 
after  us.     We  owe  it  to  his  seeking  that  we  sit  here 
in  hope  to-day.     While  we  praise  his  saving,  let  us 
not  forget  his  seeking  love. 

Are  there  not  some  here  who  feel  that  Christ  is 
seeking  after  them  to-day  ?  Are  there  any  who  are 
foolishly  and  wickedly  hiding  themselves  from  his 

14 


314  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

seeking?  Is  it  credible  that  any  here  desire  to  be 
lost?  any  here,  who,  found  of  Christ,  resist,  and 
refuse  to  be  lifted  in  his  divine  arms,  and  carried 
back  to  the  fold  ?  I  refuse  to  believe  it.  Such  con- 
duct is  not  merely  foolish,  nor  suicidal,  nor  base  :  it  is 
all  of  these  combined.     I  have  no  word  for  it. 

My  friends,  I  have  shown  you  Christ,  and  made 
you  to  see  the  object  of  his  mission.  You  all  see 
what  it  was ;  and  the  object  of  Christ  shows  us 
what  should  be  the  object  of  the  Christian.  "  The 
disciple  is  not  above  his  master,  nor  the  servant  above 
his  lord."  What  Christ  lived  for,  we,  who  profess 
to  have  Christ  in  us,  the  hope  of  glory,  must  live  for. 
The  object,  then,  of  the  Christian's  life,  your  object 
and  mine,  my  brother  and  sister,  is  to  save  the  lost. 
This  object  should  be  to  all  other  objects  of  our  lives 
what  the  firmament  is  to  the  stars  :  it  includes  them 
all.  Is  there  a  man  sinking  ?  —  become  to  him  what 
Christ  was  to  Peter,  —  a  savior.  Is  that  man  by 
your  side  blind  ?  —  touch  with  the  fingers  of  a  Christ- 
like influence  his  sightless  orbs,  that  he  may  see. 
Are  these  thousands  around  you  hungry  and  faint  ? 
—  cause  them  to  sit,  then,  while  you  break  and  dis- 
tribute the  bread  of  your  bounty  among  them.  Are 
there  publicans  and  sinners  in  Boston,  men  and  wo- 
men despised,  dangerous,  mean,  and  wicked  ?  —  then 
go  and  speak  some  parable  like  this  of  the  lost  sheep 
unto  them.  Is  there  some  sinful  woman,  whom  a  pub- 
lic opinion,  seeking  only  to  stone  her,  drags  into  your 
presence  for  judgment  ?  —  then  (I  speak  not  as  a 
man :  I  speak  with  Christ  standing  back  of  me,  and 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  315 

telling  me  to  say  it),  —  then  do  as  Christ  did.  Say  to 
her,  "  Go  and  sin  no  more."  Do  you  think  that  one 
silly  or  wicked  lamb  has  wandered  from  the  fold,  and  is 
to-day  in  the  wilderness  of  human  life,  lost  ?  —  go  out, 
then,  inspired  with  the  seeking  love  of  God ;  search 
far  and  near  —  street,  ally,  and  brothel  —  until  you 
find  that  soul,  and  bring  it  back.  Give  to  Christ  a  sec- 
ond incarnation  in  your  own  person ;  and  let  the  same 
sublime  purpose,  born  of  no  parent  less  noble  than 
the  mercy  of  God,  which  breathed  in  all  the  words 
and  acts  of  Christ,  animate  you. 

The  passage  says  that  he  sought  his  own  until 
he  found  it. 

My  friends,  have  you  never  marvelled  at  the  per- 
severance of  God  ?  Do  you  not  know  of  souls,  per- 
haps your  own  among  the  number,  for  whom  Christ 
sought  years  before  he  found  ?  Messenger  after  mes- 
senger was  sent  out ;  but  you  evaded  them.  You 
loved  to  wander  and  roam  ;  you  delighted  in  sinful 
independence  ;  you  hid  yourself  away  from  him.  The 
starving  child  fled  from  the  loaf;  the  pilgrim,  dying 
of  thirst,  avoided  the  spring.  But  divine  love  perse- 
vered. Mercy  had  been  sent  out  to  seek  ;  and  seek  it 
did.  It  followed  you  in  all  your  devious  windings  ; 
through  the  thickets  and  into  the  chasms  of  your 
experience  it  pursued ;  and  at  last,  when  hope  itself 
had  given  up  in  despair,  it  found  you,  —  found,  and 
brought  you  home.  We  are  like  vases  of  rare  tint 
and  exquisite  workmanship,  which,  shattered  by  some 
violent  stroke,  have  been  regathered  in  all  their  frag- 
ments, and  so   carefully  re-joined,   and  glued  with 


316  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

transparent  cement,  that  no  eye  can  detect  where 
were  the  lines  of  rupture.  The  seeking  love  of  God 
found  us  in  fragments,  and  made  us  over  into  a  perfect 
whole.  If  any  of  you  have  children  or  friends  or 
relatives  far  away  from  God,  widely  wandering  from 
the  truth  of  statement  and  life,  I  trust  you  will  not 
be  discouraged.  Hope  and  pray  always.  Die  as  you 
have  lived,  hoping  and  praying.  Build  your  hope  on 
the  seeking  love  of  Christ.  Remember  that  his  whole 
heart,  all  his  energies,  are  expended  in  seeking  and 
saving  the  lost.  Ally  your  life  with  his  in  this  work  ; 
help  reform  society ;  helj)  reform  the  Church,  so  that 
people  shall  not  stare  and  look  astonished  when  a  really 
bad  man  or  wicked  woman  is  saved ;  when  a  soul  that 
has  in  very  fact  been  lost^  and  which  was  found  in  its 
sins  as  a  lamb  found  in  some  dark,  stony  gorge,  nearly 
dead  from  exposure  and  wounds,  is  brought  to  the  fold. 
Help  reform  the  pulpit,  until  the  under-shepherds  of 
Christ,  when  proclaiming  the  gospel,  shall  go  forth  on 
their  beneficent  errands,  provided  only  with  peaceful 
crook  and  tuneful  pipe,  and  not  armed  with  clubs  of 
theological  controversy  with  which  to  surround  a 
crowd  of  wanderers,  and  drive  them  by  main  force  into 
the  fold.  It  is  the  seeking,  and  not  the  driving  love 
of  God,  that  you  are  to  imitate.  You  are  not  to  treat 
publicans  and  sinners  as  Christ  did  the  Pharisees,  and 
say,  "  Woe  unto  you  !  "  If  you  come  across  a  Phari- 
see, a  real  long-faced  hypocrite,  a  man  who  believes 
in  perfection,  and  acts  as  if  possessed  with  the  De^'il, 
say  "  Woe  "  to  him,  or  any  thing  else  you  please,  and 
feel  that  you  have  the  gospel  sanction  on  the  utter- 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  317 

ance :  but  to  the  Thomases  weak  of  faith,  to  the  hot- 
headed Peters,  to  the  man  who  casts  out  devils  with- 
out nominally  confessing  Christ,  to  the  publicans  and 
sinners,  to  the  ignorant  and  erring  of  this  generation, 
say  not  "  Woe  !  "  for  you  have  no  sanction  of  Christ  to 
do  it.  Go  where  these  classes  are  ;  get  them  around 
you,  and  make  a  parable  to  them  rather,  as  this  about 
the  lost  sheep,  or  that  of  the  lost  piece  of  money,  or 
that  of  the  prodigal  son ;  and  let  the  spirit  of  your 
words  be,  not  that  of  denunciation,  but  of  hope,  in- 
struction, and  encouragement.  Say  unto  them,  "  Ask, 
and  ye  shall  receive  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock, 
and  it  shall  be  opened." 

At  this  point,  and  in  close  connection  with  what  I 
am  saying,  is  another  suggestion,  derived  from  the 
story  of  the  parable.  After  the  shepherd  had  found 
the  lost  sheep,  he  is  represented  as  "  laying  it  on  his 
shoulders."  How  tenderly  the  good  shepherd  is  rep- 
resented as  acting  toward  the  sheep  that  had  caused 
him  such  anxiety,  and  cost  him  so  much  toil  and 
trouble  !  He  does  not  chastise  it ;  he  does  not  chide 
and  threaten;  he  does  not  even  drive  it  with  re- 
proaches back  to  the  fold.  He  does  not  say  to  a  ser- 
vant, "  Here,  take  it  up,  and  carry  the  silly  thing 
back."  No :  he  stoops  his  own  shoulder  to  it,  and 
with  his  own  strength  carries  it  to  the  fold.  Here, 
my  people,  you  see  the  sustaining  love  of  Christ. 
His  seeking  love  is  not  more  wonderful  in  its  efforts 
to  find  us  than  is  his  supporting  love  to  uphold  us 
after  we  are  found.  The  highest  form  of  persever- 
ance is  love.     It  is  stronger  than  hate ;  for  the  grave 


318  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

ends  that :  but  love  lives,  and  weeps  above  the  grave, 
powerful,  intense,  as  ever.  "And  if  there  is  a  single 
soul  in  divine  presence  at  this  moment  whom  the  Sa- 
viour has  found  by  his  long-searching  mercy  ;  a  man 
or  woman  who  lies  in  moral  weakness  and  prostration  ; 
one  who  longs  to  be  in  the  fold  of  God,  but  is  un- 
able to  arise  and  go  of  himself,  —  believe  me,  friend, 
Christ,  the  great  Shepherd,  himself  stoops  to  take  jou. 
up.  Yield  yourself  to  his  arms ;  say,  "  Here  I  am, 
lost,  sin-bitten,  helpless.  I  know  not  where  the 
fold  is,  or  how  to  get  there.  O  Saviour  !  carri/  me  ; 
take  me  just  as  I  am  :  do  not  leave  me  another  night ; 
carry  me  to  thy  fold ! "  Say  this ;  say  it  in  your 
heart ;  say  it  now,  just  as  you  are  ;  and  He  who  bore 
all  our  sins  will  bear  you,  and  you  shall  find  the  fold 
even  as  you  yield  yourself  to  his  arms ;  for  the  arms 
of  Christ  are  the  fold  of  God. 

My  people,  I  choose  my  themes,  when  I  am  to 
teach  you  from  this  place,  deliberately.  I  am  as  one 
driven  for  time  ;  who  cannot  tell  his  story  in  full,  and 
so  selects  what  seems  the  most  essential  for  the  un- 
derstanding of  the  message  intrusted  to  him.  The 
time  will  come  when  I  shall  not  teach  you.  What 
thoughts  I  have  of  God  will  stay  at  home,  and  go  not 
out  into  the  great  thoroughfare  along  which  the 
forceful  energies  of  the  human  mind  march  in  stately 
columns,  seen  and  felt  of  all.  What  views  may  come 
to  me  of  the  divine  nature,  what  impulses  may  be  im- 
parted, will  matter  little  then  to  you.  But  now  you 
hear  me,  and  my  thoughts  are  your  thoughts ;  for  I 


SAVING  THE  LOST.  319 

give  them  freely,  and  hold  nothing  back.  You  know 
my  faith ;  for  I  have  often  told  you  of  it.  I  hold  that 
all  things  in  this  world  work  together  for  good  to 
those  that  believe ;  that  underneath  all  our  hopes 
and  fears  and  impulses  and  experiences,  as  a  pilot 
beneath  the  swelling  of  a  hundred  sails,  stands  God, 
with  his  hand  upon  the  helm.  It  is  he  that  is  steer- 
ing us,  and  not  we  ourselves.  I  hold  that  the  Chris- 
tian should  look  at  death  with  a  face  as  briofht  and 
cheerful  as  sunrise  when  it  meets  the  darkness  of 
night,  irradiating  what  it  faces.  I  hold,  with  stead- 
fastness of  thought,  that  every  man  and  woman 
should  stand  upon  this  earth  as  a  bird  upon. a  swaying 
perch,  from  which,  when  shaken  by  the  passing  gust, 
she  flies  away,  finding  both  her  largest  opportunity 
and  her  highest  joy  in  flight.  This  is  my  faith  :  and, 
if  you  ask  its  source,  I  say  it  is  born  of  a  clear  intel- 
lectual apprehension ;  a  firm,  abiding  confidence  in 
the  saving  love  of  God,  —  that  divine,  indescribable, 
inexhaustible  love  that  lives  and  yearns  in  God's 
heart  for  man.  I  say  it  is  indescribable  ;  for  I  know 
of  no  love  with  which  to  compare  it.  I  know  by 
observation  the  strength  and  gravity  of  a  father's 
love  ;  how  it  will  toil  and  bear,  and  make  sixty  years 
of  life  the  fulfilment  of  one  wish,  —  that  over  his  grave 
his  son  may  mount  to  something  higher  and  wider 
than  his  father  knew.  I  know  the  patience,  the  ten- 
derness, the  hovering,  brooding  quality,  of  a  mother's 
love,  which  seeks  to  nestle  and  screen  from  every 
passing  harm  the  objects  of  her  care.  I  know,  too, 
of  that  other  love  which  woman  bears  for  man,  at  the 


320  SAVING  THE  LOST. 

y  )ice  and  beck  of  which  father  and  mother  are  left, 
a: id  she  goes  forth,  as  an  angel  following  after  God, 
T^ith  him  whom  her  soul  loveth.  This,  too,  is  inde- 
scribable. It  is  eternal  also.  Its  voice  is  music 
here ;  it  makes  the  melody  of  home  ;  and  I  know  that 
it  is  strong  enough  to  send  its  cry  beyond  the  inter- 
val of  death,  and  wake  the  eclioes  of  the  eternal 
world.  But  over  and  above  all  these,  including 
them  all  as  minor  parts  of  itself,  stands  the  divine 
love  for  man.  And  now,  if  any  of  you  feel  that  you 
would  take  of  this  love,  either  in  the  way  of  pardon 
or  sanctification,  take  ye  freely  of  it.  Take  it  freely, 
I  say,  as  the  earth  in  summer  takes  the  sunshine,  as 
the  nostrils  of  bird  and  beast  and  man  take  of  the 
air ;  for,  like  the  sunshine,  it  is  on  you  all,  and  it  is 
poured  over  you  all  as  the  air  is  poured  about  the 
earth. 


SABBATH  MORMIJfG,  FEB.  18,  1872. 


SERMOK 


SUBJECT.- IMPROVEMENT  OF  SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES. 

"  And,  while  they  went  to  buy,  the  bridegroom  came  ;  and  they 
that  were  ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage;  and  the 

DOOR  WAS  SHUT."— Matt.  XXV.  10. 

THE  lesson  taught  in  this  passage  is,  that,  what- 
ever good  opportunity  comes  to  man,  he  should 
instantly  improve  it ;  that,  when  some  fortunate  oc- 
casion solicits  action,  he  should  act,  and  act,  too, 
on  the  instant ;  and  that  he  who  fails  so  to  act  loses 
forever  the  blessings  he  might  have  obtained.  This 
is  the  gist  of  the  passage ;  and  my  desire  and  hope 
are,  so  to  unfold  and  apply  this  subject  that  you  may 
one  and  all  feel  in  full  force  the  pressure  of  the  obH- 
gation. 

The  first  is,  that  he  who  desires  to  change  his 
course  of  life,  to  rectify  his  example,  to  reform  his 
conduct,  should  do  so  at  once. 

There  are  questions  upon  which  we  should  delib- 
erate long  and  earnestly,  and,  even  after  a  decision 
has  been  reached,  enter  upon  the  performance  cau- 
tiously ;  but  there  are  other  questions  which  do  not 
relate  to  the  judgment  or  the  deliberative  faculties, 

14*  321 


322  IMPROVEMENT  OF 

but  rather  to  the  conscience  and  the  moral  faculties, 
and  concerning  which  the  decision  should  be  upon 
the  instant,  and  the  concordant  act  follow  at  once. 
There  are  things  which  must  be  done,  if  they  are  to 
be  done  at  all,  when  the  nature  is  at  white-heat. 
There  are  acts  born  of  the  slow  operation  of  the 
iniderstanding,  when  conviction  of  duty  waits  on 
processes  of  thought  and  elaborate  investigation :  and 
there  are  other  acts  which  are  not  offspring  of  the 
understanding,  are  not  born  of  analysis,  but  are 
children  of  the  emotions  ;  and  as  Minerva  leaped  full- 
armed  from  the  brain  of  Jupiter,  so  these  spring  forth 
from  the  moral  sensibilities,  armed  and  equipped  for 
action.  There  are  decisions  which  lose  by  debate,  — 
deliberation  emasculates  them,  —  and  to  which  delay 
is  death.  Those  people  who  think  every  thing  must 
be  done  in  cool  blood;  who  think  that  deliberation 
lends  dignity  to  the  step ;  who  think  that  man  can 
take  no  stand  unless  he  meditates  upon  it,  and  re- 
volves it  in  his  mind  for  six  months,  —  such  peo- 
ple are  greatly  mistaken :  such  people  forget  what 
I  would  call  the  volcanic  element  in  man,  —  the 
enthusiastic  and  passionate  element,  which  swells 
and  rises  in  him  at  times,  impelled  by  some  unknown 
magnetic  law,  until,  with  the  flame  and  fervor  of  an 
irresistible  impulse  to  which  is  neither  limit  nor  law 
save  sach  as  is  born  of  itself,  it  overflows  all  the 
ordinary  habits  of  his  life,  and  illuminates  his  entire 
nature  from  base  to  summit.  Poets  give  one  name 
to  it,  philosophers  another:  Christ  called  it  being 
''  born  again ;  "  and  Paul,  delineating  its  later  mani- 


SPIKITUAL  OPPOETUNITIES.  323 

festations,  described  it  as  "  being  filled  with  the 
Spirit."-  Call  it  whatever  you  severally  please,  you 
all  know  what  I  mean,  and  to  what  I  refer.  I  refer 
to  that  keen  conviction  which  pierceth  to  the  joints 
and  marrow  of  a  man's  spiritual  organism ;  to  that 
overflowing  of  the  emotions,  that  rush  of  the  affec- 
tions toward  God,  which  comes  forth  from  a  stony 
heart  as  the  water  leaped  from  the  rock  when  Moses 
smote  it  with  his  staff;  that  sublimating  of  the  hopes 
and  desires  that  have  been  sordid  and  base,  which 
makes  a  person  a  marvel  to  himself,  and  an  undenia- 
ble witness  to  the  power  of  God.  You  know  that  the 
noblest  exhibitions  of  your  own  lives,  and  the  sub- 
limest  acts  of  man  as  recorded  in  history,  have  been 
born  of  this  moral  enthusiasm ;  born  in  an  instant ; 
born,  not  of  the  judgment,  but  of  the  emotion,  when 
you  were  caught  up  out  of  yourself,  as  it  were,  even 
as  water  is  scooped  from  the  surface  of  a  lake  by  the 
uplifting  suction  of  a  whirlwind,  and  blown  upward 
into  the  air,  where  it  is  no  longer  water,  but  a  colum- 
nar rainbow  or  a  sea  of  crimson  mist.  So  ever  and 
anon,  down  through  the  history  of  the  race,  some 
man,  or  class  of  men,  has  been  blown  upon  of  God, 
and  inspired,  and  made  the  centre  of  his  uplifting 
power,  and  lifted  spiritually  above  the  earth  into  the 
clear  sunlight  of  an  exalted  purpose,  and  been  trans- 
figured by  it.  Now,  I  sa^^i  w^en  a  man  is  so  caught 
up  toward  heaven ;  when  God  has  put  the  arms  of  a 
mighty  conviction,  around  him,  and  lifted  him  out 
of  the  pit  of  his  sordidness,  upon  whose  crumbling 
edge  no  foot  can  pause  an  instant  and  not  slip  back- 


324  IMPKOVEMENT  OF 

ward,  —  that  person  must  not  hesitate  ;  he  must  not 
stop  to  debate :  he  must  run^  run  for  his  life,  if  he 
would  not  slip,  and  tumble  again  into  the  very  pit 
from  which  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  has  rescued 
him.  If  a  miserly  man,  for  instance,  is  touched  with 
the  divine  sentiment  of  humanity ;  if,  through  the 
voice  of  a  living  preacher,  some  benevolent  cause  has 
put  its  claim  before  him  in  such  a  light  that  his 
heart  is  melted,  and  an  impulse  to  give,  and  to  give 
freely,  has  risen  up  within  him, — let  him  not  hesitate  ; 
let  him  not  delay :  let  him  put  his  name  and  amount 
down  at  once.  That  moment  is  the  only  gateway 
through  which  performance,  large  in  stature  as 
Heaven's  requirement,  can  pass.  At  that  moment 
he  is  warmed  up  to  the  act ;  the  claims  of  God  are 
vividly  before  his  eyes ;  conscience  is  alive ;  the  fin- 
gers of  his  sordidness  are  for  the  moment  paralyzed ; 
he  is  free  from  his  old  bondage  to  Mammon.  For  a 
moment  he  can  act  generously.  Let  him  do  it,  or  his 
old  meanness  will  re-assert  its  sway  over  him,  and 
master  him.  This  is  the  way  the  human  mind  acts. 
Granted  that  it  has  lived  on  a  certain  level :  it  is  capa- 
ble of  great  deeds  only  at  intervals  ;  and,  until  such 
an  interval  is  improved,  it  will  remain  on  its  habitual 
level,  and  under  the  operation  of  laws  that  serve  to 
prevent  its  improvement.  This,  then,  is  the  truth  I 
urge  upon  you  to-day.  If  any  of  you  are  convicted  of 
duty  touching  your  relation  to  God  and  the  Church ; 
if  any  of  you  are  so  pressed  upon  of  God,  that  you 
find  it  hard  to  remain  where  you  are,  and  are  com- 
pelled to  brace  yourselves,  lest  you  be  swept  all  of 


SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES.  325 

a  sudden,  as  it  were,  onward  to  an  open  and  public 
confession  ;  if  any  of  you  feel  that  morally,  as  fathers 
and  mothers,  as  husbands  and  wives,  as  individuals 
before  God,  you  have  come  to  a  crisis  in  your  lives, 
and  must,  in  your  own  minds,  make  a  positive  decis- 
ion for  or  against  religion,  —  I  warn  you  that  your 
course  is  suicidal.  You  are  rebelling  not  only  against 
God,  but  against  the  laws  of  your  own  mind.  You 
are  ignoring  the  plainest  connection  between  motives 
and  acts.  You  should  not  debate  the  matter  a  mo- 
ment. You  should  not  delay  an  instant.  You 
should  rise,  and  say,  "  Lord,  here  I  am :  take  me  and 
use  me." 

The  chances  now  are  all  in  your  favor.  The  bal- 
ances incline  perceptibly  to  your  side  of  the  scale. 
You  have  reached  the  very  borders  of  the  stream.  All 
your  energies  are  gathered  for  the  leap.  Your  pastor 
is  present  to  give  you  the  word,  and  God  himself 
ready  to  help.  Now  is  the  time  for  you  to  jump. 
Delay  will  change  the  conditions  against  you.  The 
stream  will  widen  with  years,  the  current  grow 
deeper  and  darker,  your  mind  lose  its  courage,  the 
voice  best  calculated  to  give  you  the  word  pass  away 
into  the  silence  of  distance  or  of  death,  and  you  will 
be,  in  the  closing  hour  of  your  life,  on  the  wrong  side 
of  the  stream.  My  friend,  believe  me,  "  now  is  your 
accepted  time ;  now  is  your  hour  of  salvation." 

Again :  I  ask  you  to  observe  that  the  character  of 
a  person's  past  life  may  be  such,  —  and  in  the  case 
of  nearly  all  of  us  it  doubtless  is  such,  —  that  sudden, 
instantaneous  action  is  his  only  salvation. 


326  IMPEOVEMENT  OF 

There  are  two  classes  of  sins.  The  one  may  be 
called  sins  of  the  perceptive  faculties  ;  sins  of  error ; 
sins  of  ignorance ;  sins  of  prejudice ;  sins  from 
which  man  cannot  be  delivered  at  once,  unless,  as 
in  the  case  of  Paul,  God  breaks  over  his  ordinary 
methods  of  procedure,  and  condenses  what  is  the 
result  of  years  of  ordinary  life  into  the  experience 
of  a  few  days  or  hours.  In  many  points,  our  con- 
version is  slow.  Our  reformation  waits  on  education 
and  the  leisurely  growth  of  our  understanding. 
There  are  sins  so  minute,  so  far  off,  so  mingled  and 
shaded  into  the  very  atmosphere  of  our  life,  that,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  eye  distinguishing  distant  objects 
at  sea,  the  conscience  beholds  them  only  after  long 
practice ;  only  when,  after  long  exercise,  its  powers 
have  been  trained  up  to  the  maximum  of  capacity. 
This  is  one  class  of  sins ;  and  from  such  we  are  de- 
livered slowly,  and  only  as  we  "  grow  in  knowledge 
and  grace." 

But  there  is  another  class  of  sins,  —  sins  of  the 
passions,  of  habit,  of  appetite,  of  indulgence  of 
the  animal  instincts,  —  from  which  deliverance  comes, 
if  at  all,  through  a  decisive,  instantaneous  act  of  the 
will.  The  fly  is  wise  in  its  instinct  when  it  seeks 
with  buzzing  and  violence  to  break  suddenly  away 
from  the  spider's  web  in  which  it  finds  itself  unex- 
pectedly entangled.  It  must  break  out,  or  die.  And 
that  person  who  finds  himself  or  herself  caught  in 
Jthe  meshes  of  some  temptation  that  the  Devil  has 
spun,  and  skilfully  suspended  in  his  path  ;  who  finds 
himself  webbed  in  with  wicked  desires,  and  his  mind 


SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES.  327 

being  rapidly  swathed  in  sinful  thoughts,  —  such  a 
person,  I  say,  must  learn  a  lesson  from  the  entrapped 
fly,  and  burst  peremptorily  away  from  the  encircling 
danger.  In  such  a  case,  reflection  is  death.  A 
month,  a  week,  a  single  hour  even,  wasted  in  de- 
bate, and  his  freedom  is  lost.  There  are  diseases  — 
such  as  weakness  of  the  organs,  taints  of  blood,  bro- 
ken bones,  dislocated  limbs — which  only  time,  acting 
in  conjunction  with  other  remedial  agents,  can  cure. 
But,  as  you  all  know,  now  and  then  there  is  gene- 
rated in  the  human  body  such  a  foreign  substance, 
prolific  of  such  antagonisms  to  the  person's  life,  that 
the  surgeon's  knife  must  be  called  in  to  deal  with  it. 
Nothing  short  of  excision  will  answer,  and  that,  too, 
at  once.  The  delay  of  a  month,  a  week,  perhaps  an 
hour,  would  take  even  the  possibility  of  recovery 
from  the  patient.  It  is  precisely  so  morally.  There 
are  diseases  in  man's  moral  structure,  taints  from  an 
ancestral  blood,  hereditary  weaknesses,  dislocated 
faculties,  which  time  and  the  grace  of  God  both  can 
alone  remove:  we  must  wait  with  what  patience 
we  may  command,  until  the  operation  of  the  Spirit 
shall  purge  us  free  of  them.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  spiritual  disorder  is  occasionally  developed 
in  us,  so  swift  and  deadly  in  its  action,  so  infectious, 
and  prolific  of  further  disturbance,  that  whoever 
would  save  his  soul  must  deliver  himself  from  it  at 
once.  If  any  of  you  recognize  the  analysis  as  cor- 
rect ;  if  any  of  you  see  in  it  a  personal  application ; 
if  any  of  you  feel  like  saying  to  yourself,  "  Good 
God,  that  is  my  case  !  "  —  I  tell  you,  friend,  I  have 


328  IMPKOVEMENT  OF 

mapped  out  the  only  plan  that  will  save  your  life. 
If  any  of  you  feel  that  the  fires  of  unlawful  passion 
have  been  kindled  in  you,  or  if  an  appetite  for  in- 
toxicating drinks  is  already  so  advanced  that  its  crav- 
ing is  beginning  to  be  felt,  you  ought  to  understand 
that  the  time  for  you  to  deliberate  is  past,  and  the 
hour  for  you  to  act  is  come.  It  is  now,  and  before 
the  benediction  is  pronounced  upon  you  at  the  close 
of  this  service,  that  you  who  drink  wine  and  ale, 
and  love  to  drink  them,  ought  to  be  total-abstinence 
men.  You  are  the  very  men  who  cannot  be  moderate 
drinkers.  When  a  man  begins  to  love  liquor,  then 
it  is  that  he  should  stop  entirely.  The  time  to  put 
out  a  fire  is  the  instant  when  it  shows  itself.  I  saw  the 
Adelphi  Theatre  burn  the  last  winter.  I  stood  within 
twenty  feet  of  the  doorway,  and  saw  the  sea  of  fire 
roll  and  surge  within.  How  it  roared  and  eddied 
and  flared !  The  walls  stood,  and  within  was  one 
seething  whirlwind  of  flame.  There  were  six  engines 
playing  at  their  fullest  pressure  at  once  ;  and  the 
water  was  forced  through  the  hose  in  streams  that 
tore  the  slating  from  the  roof,  and  started  the  bricks 
along  the  edges  of  the  walls.  I  never  before  saw 
water  driven  through  the  air  with  such  violence. 
Yet  that  torrent  of  water  made  no  impression  what- 
ever on  the  flames :  they  only  flared  the  higher. 
The  gale  was  roaring  over  the  top  of  the  walls  ;  and 
the  suction  upward  was  such,  that  I  saw  the  solid 
streams  from  the  hose,  the  moment  they  passed  with- 
in the  line  of  bricks,  fringe  out.  The  thin  spray  was 
actually  lifted  upward,  and  borne  away  upon  the  cur- 


SPIEITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES.  329 

rent  of  flame.  No  human  power,  no  effort  of  man, 
could  stop  that  conflagration.  The  building  was 
doomed.  Yet  there  was  a  time,  an  hour  before, 
when  a  child's  hand  and  a  single  basin  of  water  would 
have  saved  that  building.  It  is  just  so,  friends, 
with  man,  touching  his  appetites  and  his  passions. 
He  must  not  allow  them  to  gather  headway,  and 
flame  up  in  him :  he  must  smother  them  in  the  ear- 
lier stages  of  their  manifestation,  before  they  have 
begun  to  rage.  You  can  manage  a  fire;  but  you 
cannot  a  conflagration. 

There  is  an  appalling  amount  of  carelessness  in 
these  matters.  Indulgence  is  made  a  fine  art ;  and 
men  study  and  experiment  how  much  they  can  stand, 
and  keep  their  respectability.  The  line  is  drawn 
mighty  fine  in  some  cases  too !  It  must  needs  be  a 
pretty  sharp-pointed  pencil  that  would  trace  a  dis- 
tinction between  gluttony  and  "generous  living," 
between  drunkenness  and  "  moderate  drinking,"  be- 
tween speculation  and  gambling. 

The  only  safe  way  touching  this  class  of  sins  is  to 
break  short  off.  Not  one  man  in  a  thousand  can 
sin  moderately  on  the  lower,  the  animal  side  of  his 
nature.  He  can  sin  in  his  intellect,  and  keep  his 
balance  ;  but  few  men  indeed  can  sin  in  their  pas- 
sions and  in  their  appetites,  and  not  be  swept  away. 
That  person  who  allows  grossness  to  get  the  mastery 
over  him  ;  who  lives  chiefly  in  his  sensations  ;  whose 
instincts  have  become  debauched,  so  that,  voluntarily 
and  involuntaril}^  he  desires  wickedness,  —  that  man 
is  lost.     You  might  as  well  strive  to  re-gather  the 


330  IMPROVEMENT  OF 

frao^rance  of  a  flower  from  the  aslies  into  whicli  it  has 
been  burnt  as  to  re-form  virtue  from  the  ashes  and 
cinders  of  his  reputation. 

Once  more  I  remark,  that  we  owe  something  more 
to  man  and  God  than  change :  we  owe  confession 
and  reparation.  When  a  man  has  been  doing  wrong ; 
when,  through  a  long  series  of  j^ears,  he  has  been  liv- 
ing contrary  to  the  will  of  God ;  when  he  has,  for  the 
best  half  of  his  life,  thrown  the  influence  of  his  ex- 
ample against  religion  as  applied  to  individual  experi- 
ence,—  he  owes  to  his  own  soul,  to  society,  and  to 
God,  something  more  than  reformation.  He  should 
make  a  public  confession  of  his  Avrong  conduct.  He 
should  come  out  frankly,  and  say,  "  I  wish  all  of 
you  business -men  who  have  known  me,  all  you  who 
are  my  clerks,  and  all  you  who  have  been  m}^  com- 
panions, to  know  that  I  have  not  been  living  as  a  man 
should  live  in  a  Christian  land ;  I  have  not  acted  as  a 
man  with  gospel  privileges  should  act ;  and  I  desire 
that  all  of  you  should  know  that  I  have  repented  of 
my  wrong  conduct,  and  begun  to  live  a  new  and 
better  life."  When  a  man  says  that,  he  honors  God, 
takes  a  great  burden  off  his  own  conscience,  and 
makes  his  example  right  before  men.  He  has  done  a 
vast  deal  more  than  reform  his  own  life :  he  has  set 
influences  in  motion  which  are  calculated  to  reform 
other  men's  lives.  He  has  become  a  preacher  of  sal- 
vation in  the  best  possible  way,  —  even  by  complying 
with  the  terms  of  salvation  himself.  He  has  repented, 
and  been  baptized:  and  his  baptism  is,  before  men, 
the  best  evidence  of  his  sincerity  and  earnestness ;  for 


SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES.  331 

all  his  acquaintances  know  that  he  never  would  have 
taken  that  step  if  he  had  not  been  thoroughly  wrought 
upon  and  affected.  They  hear  that  Mr.  So  or  So  has 
joined  the  church  ;  and  they  whisper  it  around  among 
themselves ;  and  they  say,  "  Well,  well,  there  must  be 
something  in  religion,  after  all,  or  he  never  would  have 
done  what  he  has  done."  The  rumor  spreads  from 
store  to  store.  His  old  friends  speak  of  it  as  they 
meet  on  the  streets  or  in  the  cars :  a  few  treat  it  as  a 
joke ;  but  most  mention  it  soberly  and  reverently. 
That  man's  confession  has  given  the  Holy  Ghost  a 
foothold  in  a  hundred  hearts.  You  see  how  it  works, 
friends,  and  that  a  person  has  no  right  to  keep  as  a 
secret  what  the  honor  of  God  and  the  welfare  of  men 
demand  should  be  made  public.  If  a  worn-out,  dys- 
peptic, and  consumptive  man  goes  into  the  Adiron- 
dacks,  and  the  climate  agrees  with  him,  his  cough 
disappears,  and  his  lost  appetite  comes  back  with  a 
vengeance,  until  he  eats  like  an  Indian,  and  is  amazed 
at  his  own  performances  in  that  line,  and  spends  the 
time  between  meals  wondering  how  he  can  hold  so 
much,  and  the  whole  camp  feel  just  as  he  does  about 
it,  and  after  two  months  he  comes  out  thirty  pounds 
heavier  than  when  he  went  in,  his  face  swarth,  his 
blood  pure  as  old  wine,  his  eye  clear  and  bright,  and 
his  whole  body  filled  with  the  divine  buoyancy  of 
health,  —  if  such  a  man  comes  out  of  the  woods,  and 
says  to  himself  just  before  he  reaches  home,  "  Now,  I 
don't  think  I  will  say  any  thing  about  this  matter ;  I 
am  wonderfully  changed,  it  is  true  ;  but  I  don't  think 
I  had  better  say  much  about  it ;  it  don't  concern  any- 


332  IMPEOVEMENT  OF 

body  but  myself;  "  and  so,  when  he  meets  a  business- 
friend  on  the  street  the  next  morning,  who  hails  him, 
"  Well,  well,  I  never  saw  such  a  change  in  my  life ; 
I  scarcely  knew  you  ;  how  much  better  you  look  !  " 
and  he  says,  while  he  draws  down  his  face,  and  lays 
his  hand  on  his  chest,  and  tries  as  hard  as  he  can  to 
cough,  "  Well,  I  don't  know  but  I  may  be  a  little  bet- 
ter ;  I  suppose  I  do  look  better  if  you  say  I  do  ;  but  I 
am  badly  off,  very  badly  off  indeed,  sir,"  —  what 
would  you  think  of  such  a  man  ?  What  name  would 
you  give  to  his  conduct  ?  Is  there  any  thing  frank  or 
honorable  about  it  ?  How  ungrateful,  how  dishonest, 
it  is  !  What,  then,  shall  we  say  of  that  man  who  has 
been  blessed  with  the  gospel  all  his  life,  whose  mind 
has  been  instructed  out  of  it,  whose  soul  has  been 
healed  of  its  weaknesses  and  diseases,  whose  whole 
spiritual  nature  has  been  renovated  and  purified,  and 
who  even  hopes  that  his  sins  have  been  forgiven  by 
the  blood  of  Christ, — what  must  we  think  of  that  man, 
when  he  conceals  the  blessed  change  that  has  come 
over  his  mind,  and  neither  honors  God  nor  benefits 
men  by  telling  them  how  much  he  has  been  helped 
and  improved  ? 

And  so  I  say  to  you  who  have  of  late  begun  to  live 
more  correctly,  who  have  been  greatly  blessed  by  the 
ministrations  of  the  gospel,  and  who  are  secretly 
cherishing  a  hope,  Make  public  confession  of  what- 
ever God  has  done  for  you ;  tell  men  of  the  change 
that  has  come  over  you  ;  and  let  the  influence  of  your 
reformation,  and  all  the  moral  effect  of  it,  be  felt  in 
your  family,  in  the  church,  and  on  the  world  at  large. 


SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES.  333 

Unpublislied  reformation,  a  hope  in  Christ  cherished 
in  reticence  and  secrecy,  is  like  an  eagle  to  whose  body 
nature  has  added  no  growth  of  wings:  it  is  denied 
the  powers,  privileges,  and  pleasures  which  belong  to 
its  nature,  needed  for  its  support,  and  demanded  by 
its  opportunities. 

And  now,  before  I  close,  —  and  I  close  with  the 
heaviness  upon  me  that  all  I  have  said  may  have 
been  spoken  in  vain,  —  let  me  speak  to  you  of  the 
exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin.  Oh,  how  it  eats  into 
man  like  a  cancer  !  How  it  blinds  his  eyes  !  How 
it  stops  his  ears  I  How  it  undermines  his  virtue  I 
How  it  blasts  and  withers  all  the  grace  and  ornament 
of  his  manhood !  How  it  takes  the  very  grace  and 
ribbon  of  his  life,  and  makes  it  to  be  like  a  soiled  and 
unseemly  rag  !  It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  be  a  sinner  even 
for  a  moment,  —  even  to  the  least  extent.  But  what 
shall  I  say  in  description  of  a  life  of  sin,  of  long  years 
spent  in  transgression,  of  those  enormous  crimes,  of 
those  flagrant  commissions,  against  the  Decalogue, 
of  those  ocean-like  and  bottomless  depravities  upon 
whose  upheavings  thousands  are  being  wrecked,  and 
whose  depths  are  white  with  the  ghastly  evidences  of 
moral  overthrow  ?  Warehouses  and  mansions  can  be 
rebuilt;  ships  may  be  lost,  and  yet  the  sea  remain 
white  with  sails  ;  the  skill  and  energy  of  man  can  make 
good  material  overthrown, — yea,  above  the  charred 
and  blackened  ruins,  erect  a  larger  and  more  imposing 
structure  :  but  who  can  regain  his  soul  when  lost  ? 
■who  lift  into  their  old  places  the  prostrate  columns 
of  his  fallen  nature  ?  who  re-gather,  and  form  anew, 


334  IMPEOVEMENT  OF 

the  fragments  of  liis  shattered  virtue  ?  No  one.  This 
is  the  work  of  God,  and  not  of  man.  If  any  of  you 
are  to  be  restored ;  if  the  marks  that  sin  has  made 
upon  you  are  ever  to  be  removed,  and  the  long-lost 
beauty  of  holiness  come  back  to  your  soul,  —  the 
health-imparting  touch  of  Christ  must  be  felt  upon 
you.  At  least  the  hem  of  his  garment  must  sway 
against  you,  or  you  will  never  be  healed. 

I  hope  none  of  you  will  get  the  idea  that  it  is  a 
little  thing  to  repent.  It  is  no  slight  work  to  break 
up  fallow  ground.  When  you  hitch  three  stout  pairs 
of  oxen  ahead  of  a  plough  that  sinks  a  furrow  twenty 
inches  in  depth  into  the  hard,  stony,  unpulverized 
soil,  how  the  roots,  that  make  a  lace-work  of  opposi- 
tion under  the  sward,  snap  !  How  the  stones  heave  up 
under  the  beam  !  How  the  old  stumps  and  snags  crash 
as  the  teamster  cracks  his  whip,  and  puts  the  whole 
strength  of  his  team  in  a  steady  strain  upon  the  chain  ! 
That  is  what  I  call  a  revolution  in  the  soil,  —  a  kind 
of  civil  war  among  the  roots.  And  when  the  field 
is  ploughed,  and  the  farmer  casts  his  eye  over  it,  and 
sees  what  a  wilderness  of  roots  and  stumps  and  stones 
he  has  turned  up,  he  wipes  his  face,  and  says,  "  That 
is  what  I  call  thorough  work."  Yes :  it  is  thorough 
work.  And  when  the  Spirit  of  God  has  entered  the 
point  of  conviction  into  the  very  subsoil  of  a  man's 
sinfulness,  and  the  work  of  repentance  is  begun, 
what  a  mesh-work  of  evil  desires  lurking  beneath 
the  swarded  surface  of  his  life  is  revealed !  What 
stony  insensibilities  are  rooted  out  of  him !  What 
deeply-bedded    and    snaggy  habits   are    torn    out ! 


SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES.  335 

What  stump-like  transgressions  are  overturned ! 
And,  when  he  has  made  a  clean  breast  of  it,  wiping 
the  tears  from  his  eyes,  and  looking  over  the  field  of 
his  confessed  sins,  he  says,  "  I  had  no  idea  that  the 
record  of  my  life  looked  like  that ;  I  had  no  idea 
that  there  was  such  a  mass  of  sin  in  me  as  that ;  I 
had  no  idea  that  there  was  any  such  amount  of  buried 
and  concealed  opposition  to  God  in  me  as  I  see  thrown 
up  and  lying  exposed  before  me." 

Nor  had  he.  Satan's  great  object  is,  not  to  let 
men  see  how  wicked  they  are.  Every  death-bed  has  a 
revelation,  —  to  the  impenitent,  a  revelation  of  horror 
and  surprise.  They  never  saw  sin  in  its  true  light 
until  then  ;  they  never  realized  how  unfit  they  were 
to  meet  God.  You  might  as  well  expect  a  pawn- 
broker to  tell  you  the  true  value  of  a  jewel  as  to 
expect  that  the  Devil  will  give  you  the  true  estimate 
of  a  holy  character. 

And  now  I  will  tell  you  what  is  the  result  of  my 
observation.  Men  do  not  differ  greatly  in  their  moral 
nature.  In  all  are  the  same  sinful  inclinations,  the 
same  liability  to  err,  the  same  temptations  to  wicked 
indulgence.  Every  sprout  from  the  old  stock  has 
the  same  poisonous  sap  in  it.  Every  twig  naturally 
terminates  in  a  thorn.  "  We  are  all  gone  out  of  the 
way :  there  is  none  that  doeth*  good ;  no,  not  one." 
Where  men  differ  is  in  their  willingness  to  recover 
themselves  from  their  evil  courses ;  and  if  you  would 
weigh  men  and  women  accurately,  if  you  would 
discern  between  the  good  and  the  base,  observe  how 
they  act  after  transgression.    We  are  all  liable  to  sin ; 


336  SPIRITUAL  OPPORTUNITIES. 

but  he  who  is  noble,  who  has  any  of  the  divine  leaven 
in  him,  is  quick  to  repent  of  his  sin.  And  when 
a  person  has  erred,  when  he  has  transgressed,  I  care 
not  how  grievously,  and  I  see  him  making  efforts  to 
recover  himself,  and  hear  him  say,  "  Yes,  I  have 
sinned;  I  have  transgressed;  I  have  been  doing  wrong 
all  my  life ;  but  here  I  take  my  stand,  and  with  God's 
help  I  mean  to  live  as  I  ought  to  live  ;  "  when  I  hear 
him  exclaim,  "No  more  transgression  for  me,  no  more 
unlawful  indulgence  of  passions,  no  more  living  down 
there  on  the  low  level  of  appetite  ;  henceforth  I  wed 
myself-  to  virtue,"  —  I  say,  friends,  when  you  hear  a 
person  saying  that,  look  well  at  him ;  for  before  you 
you  behold  a  man. 

And  now,  friends  and  strangers,  the  mercy  of  God 
is  present  in  this  house,  and  the  hour  of  your  death 
is  not  far  off.  The  pages  of  your  lives  are  blotted 
with  the  record  of  transgressions  numberless,  and 
your  natures  are  full  of  iniquities.  The  time  for  you 
to  repent  is  come.  Repent,  then,  all  of  you,  and 
change  the  course  of  your  lives,  or  the  evil  will  come 
upon  you  when  you  wot  not,  and  the  summons  will 
be  sounded  when  you  are  not  prepared.  Behold,  the 
voice  of  the  Bridegroom  can  be  heard  in  our  streets, 
and  his  cry  has  entered  into  your  hearts.  Rise  up, 
then,  all  of  you,  and  trim  your  lamps,  and  enter  in 
with  him  to  the  feast,  or  else  the  door  will  be  shut, 
and  you  will  stand  without,  and  fill  the  whole  world 
with  the  waihng  of  your  cries. 


SABBATH  MOBmMG,  FEB.  Z5,  187Z. 


SERMON. 


SUBJECT. -KINDLY  AFFECTIONS  THE  EVIDENCE  OF  TRUE  PIETY. 

"Be    kindly    AFFECTIONED    one    to    another    with    BKOTHEELr 

LOVE."  — Eom.  xii.  10. 

THIS  is  one  of  those  sentences  which  bring  out 
in  the  plainest  possible  light  the  beautiful 
character  of  Christianity.  The  object  of  Christ's 
teaching  and  life  was  to  unite  men  in  the  bonds 
of  human  impulse  ;  to  beget  and  foster  amiable  tem- 
pers in  the  human  heart ;  to  implant  such  principles 
in  the  souls  of  men,  that  at  last  all  men  should  be 
united  in  an  actual  brotherhood.  Up  to  his  coming, 
men  had  stood  apart  each  from  the  other:  selfish- 
ness had  made  them  divergent.  Ambition  bred  an- 
tagonisms ;  and  the  world  grew  fuller  of  wickedness 
and  bloodshed  as  the  years  advanced.  Even  religion 
seemed  to  engender  hostility,  and  the  altars  of  every 
god  smoked  with  the  offering  of  human  blood. 

It  was  left  for  the  Christian  religion  to  inaugurate  a 
new  era.     By  precept  and  example,  Christ  set  himself 
squarely  against  the  old  state  of  things.     To  justice 
he  subjoined  mercy,  and  to  morality  he  added  tender- 
is  337 


338  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

ness.  -He  said,  in  substance,  "It  is  not  enough  foi 
you  to  deal  justly  with  each  other ;  it  is  not  enough 
for  you  to  help  each  other  in  distress :  you  must  love 
one  another ;  you  must  have  an  actual  feeling  of  kind- 
ness in  your  heart  toward  every  human  being." 

My  friends,  there  are  those  in  our  day  who  profess 
to  love  what  is  lovely  in  human  nature  and  con- 
duct, whose  sympathies  are  undeniably  for  man,  but 
who  nevertheless  scout  at  the  Christian  religion,  and 
refuse  honor  to  Him  who  gave  unto  it  both  its  name 
and  the  amiable  spirit  which  animates  it.  I  marvel 
that  they  do  not  see,  that,  in  ignoring  Jesus,  they 
ignore  the  very  source  of  all  that  they  profess  to 
admire.  If  scholars,  if  they  have  read  history  with 
any  advantage  to  their  knowledge,  they  must  cer- 
tainly know,  that,  previous  to  the  Christian  religion, 
there  was  neither  a  religion  nor  a  philosophy  which 
was  able  to  make  men  even  humane.  The  humanities 
that  they  so  applaud,  and  which  I  rejoice  to  know 
many  of  them  exemplify,  are,  one  and  all,  the  out- 
growth of  Christian  soil :  all  are  due  to  the  teaching 
and  influence  of  Him  whom  they  so  loudly  reject. 
They  admire  charity  ;  but  charity  sprang  from  the 
cross.  They  eulogize  liberty ;  but  the  blood  of  the 
Redeemer  is  the  only  solvent  able  to  melt  the  fetter 
of  the  slave.  They  exhort  to  self-denial ;  but  neither 
in  Socrates  nor  Plato,  neither  in  Brahmin  nor  Confu- 
cius, can  they  find  the  example  which  stimulates  it. 
They  preach  of  universal  brotherhood ;  but  from  no 
other  lips  than  the  lips  of  Him  who  first  proclaimed  the 
obligation  of  fraternal  love  can  they  find  a  text  upon 


THE  EVIDENCE    OF  TEUE   PIETY.  339 

which  to  base  their  exhortations.  Of  books  the 
worM  has  had  no  hick ;  of  prophet  and  teacher  each 
age  has  had  its  share :  but  in  the  gospel,  and  the 
gospel  alone,  in  the  centuries  this  side  of  the  great 
event  which  marked  a  new  epoch  in  human  history, 
can  they  find  the  lesson  and  the  man  able  to  incul- 
cate and  proclaim  the  doctrines  needed  for  the  reali- 
zation of  their  hopes. 

The  object,  tjien,  of  Christian  teaching  and  influ- 
ence, is  to  establish  and  confirm  such  affections  in 
the  hearts  of  men  as  shall  prevent  bitterness  and 
antagonism,  and  build  up  a  kingdom  and  brotherhood 
of  peace.  In  the  accomplishment  of  this,  we  behold 
the  fulfilment  of  the  gospel  endeavor. 

Now,  I  am  free  to  confess  that  this  has  never  been 
realized,  even  in  the  Christian  Church.  Our  experi- 
ence testifies  that  we  have  never  known  such  a 
church,  —  a  church  entirely  and  absolutely  free  from 
dissensions,  alienation,  and  unfriendliness.  The  near- 
est we  have  ever,  as  yet,  come  to  it,  is  such  a  state 
of  mutual  restraint  and  forbearance,  that  the  open 
manifestation  of  unfriendliness  was  prevented.  But 
silence  is  not  harmony,  and  absence  of  scandal  is  not 
Ijrotherly  unity.  We  have  never  known  a  church,  I 
say,  in  which  pique  and  rivalry,  sourness  of  temper 
and  lack  of  sympathy,  did  not  exist.  In  other  words, 
the  Christian  religion  has  never  as  yet  received  a  fall 
and  necessary  expression  even  in  the  action  of  those 
professing  it.  I  allude  to  this  painful  fact,  not  to 
upbraid  any  one,  not  to  implicate  any  one,  not  out  of 
any  desire  to  say  a  sharp  and  biting  thing,  but  solely 


340  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

for  the  purpose  of  knowing  just  where  we  stand.  I 
make  the  statement  purely  in  the  interest  of  truth, 
and  that  I  may  point  out  the  remedy. 

The  first  point  I  make,  then,  is  this,  —  that  we  do 
not  adequately  express  our  religion.  Christianity  is 
more  beautiful  than  it  is  seen  to  be  in  our  persons. 
Seen  through  the  medium  of  our  lives,  it  appears,  to 
those  who  gaze,  like  a  sun  shorn  of  its  beams :  it  is 
suffering  an  eclipse.  We  should  recognize  this  fail- 
ure. We  should  say,  "  This  thing  will  never  do. 
Nineteen  centuries  are  enough  to  have  brought  out 
something  better  than  I  see  around  me ;  yea,  and 
something  better  than  I  see  in  my  own  heart.  If 
there  is  any  latent  power,  any  beautiful  but  unre- 
vealed  state,  in  Christianity,  waiting  for  the  hour  of 
its  manifestation,  waiting  for  a  man  to  demonstrate  it, 
then  this  is  the  hour,  and  I  am  the  man." 

This,  then,  is  my  first  suggestion,  —  that  the  path 
by  which  the  world  is  to  reach  a  fuller  realization  of 
the  beauty  and  force  of  Christianity  lies  through  a 
fuller  development  of  amiable  dispositions  in  the  in- 
dividual. My  friends,  men  are  not,  and  never  will  be, 
converted  en  masse.  One  soul  at  a  time  is  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  law  of  grace.  The  beauty  and  fragrance 
of  a  garden  come  by  the  blossoming  of  many  flowers, 
not  one  :  one  huge  flower  can  never  make  a  gar- 
den. Each  flower  is  made  up  of  many  leaves,  not 
of  one ;  and  each  passes  through  every  stage  of 
growth  until  it  reaches  its  complete  fulness.  So  it  is 
with  man.  How  is  a  man  converted  ?  All  at  once  ? 
No.     Holy  habits  are  formed  as  a  tree  puts  on  its 


THE   EVIDENCE   OF  TRUE   PIETY.  341 

dress  of  leaves,  —  one  at  a  time.  Evil  is  overcome  in 
detail.  Our  exercises  are  not  in  the  form  of  one  great 
battle,  in  which  we  win  or  lose  all  at  once  :  they  are 
more  like  a  campaign,  into  which  enter  many  battles, 
sieges,  assaults,  retreats,  and  victories.  Christianity 
must  have  a  higher,  a  fuller,  a  richer  development  in 
your  soul  and  mine,  my  hearer,  before  it  has  it  in  the 
world.  If  the  drops  withheld  themselves  from  the  river, 
there  would  be  no  river.  We  pray  that  mankind  may 
be  more  kindly  disposed  one  toward  another ;  that  wars 
and  contention  may  cease  ;  that  love  and  peace  may 
reign  supreme  everywhere.  And  yet  we  allow  harsh- 
ness and  prejudice  and  passion,  that  provoke  strife 
and  disagreement,  to  reign  in  our  own  bosom.  We 
adjourn  the  millennium  continually.  We  put  it  off, 
and  picture  it  the  destiny  of  the  future.  We  think 
of  it  as  a  remote  event,  that  we  are  never  to  see  or 
feel.  This  is  wrong.  The  millennium  will  be  a  mat- 
ter of  personal  experience  before  it  can  be  a  matter 
of  universal  experience.  When  the  soul  is  at  peace 
with  God  and  man,  when  the  passions  that  canse  strife 
are  subdued,  when  the  tempers  that  breed  contention 
are  banished,  then  has  that  soul  entered  into  the  mil- 
lennial state.  It  is  not  something  to  wait  for:  it  is 
realized.  Heaven  is  not  something,  then,  to  which 
you  are  to  be  carried :  it  has  come  to  you.  The  fu- 
ture has,  then,  no  change,  no  joy,  save  such  as  come 
in  the  way  of  growth  and  experience. 

Now,  there  are  many,  apparently,  to  whom  reli- 
gion does  not  mean  this.  They  are  not  gentle  and 
amiable.     They  do  not  grow  merciful  and  loving  and 


342  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

gracious  as  tliey  grow  in  years.  They  are  harsh 
and  knotty  and  crabbed.  Their  piety  is  a  kind  of 
gnarled  piety,  a  wart-hke  piety,  which  is  useless; 
for  God  does  not  make  his  saints  out  of  veneer, 
but  out  of  soUd  wood.  About  all  the  advance  some 
church-members  make  is  to  grow  stiffer  and  more 
set  in  their  intellectual  opinions.  The  years  add 
only  to  their  pugnacity.  They  are  theological  vul- 
tures, and  can  scent  heresy  thirty  miles  away.  They 
seem  to  delight  in  opposing  and  being  opposed.  A 
novel  expression,  a  new  manner  of  stating  an  old 
truth  in  a  sermon,  is  a  godsend  to  them.  If  they  can 
find  something  to  worry  over,  to  be  alarmed  at, 
they  are  happy.  Tliey  must  be  thoroughly  wilful  an_d 
obstinate,  and  anxious  and  miserable,  or  they  feel  that 
they  fail  in  duty. 

Now,  friends,  the  Church  has  too  many  of  such 
people  already.  She  does  not  need  another  one. 
The  cause  of  Christ  does  not  need  partisans,  but 
disciples,  —  men  willing  to  learn  and  imbibe  of  the 
spirit  of  Jesus.  A  wicked  temper  is  just  as  wicked 
shown  in  a  church-meeting  as  it  is  when  shown  on 
the  dock  or  in  a  store.  A  spiteful  prayer  damns  a 
soul  more  than  an  oath.  Meanness,  with  zeal  for  re- 
ligion as  a  mask,  is  at  least  as  bad  as  meanness  else- 
where.    A  bad  life  is  worse  than  a  bad  creed. 

Now,  nature  suggests,  and  the  Bible  enjoins,  that 
men  be  kindly  affectioned  one  toward  another.  To 
this  we  are  prompted  by  many  considerations.  We 
all  have  one  Father,  essentially  one  nature,  one  life, 
one  destiny.     These  should  make  us  to  be  sympa- 


THE  EVIDENCE  OP  TRUE  PIETY.  343 

thetic.  The  old  mariners  had  this  saying,  "  Cursed 
be  the  hand  that  pushes  a  shipmate  overboard!  "  You 
catch  the  thought  of  the  adjuration.  They  were  unit- 
ed in,  the  bonds  of  like  perils,  like  hopes,  like  labors. 
Living  in  a  world  of  similar  conditions,  they  must 
breathe  the  air  of  harmony.  Even  brutes  of  the  same 
blood  dwell  in  peace.  How,  then,  shall  men  quarrel  ? 
What  right  have  we  to  turn  against  each  other,  re- 
belling even  against  the  law  of  a  common  nature  ? 
No  right  at  all.  A  man  who  can  do  it  is  not  a  Chris- 
tian :  he  is  a  barbarian. 

Now,  there  is  one  very  unfortunate  fact  in  the  histo- 
ry of  the  Church,  to  which  I  have  already  called  your 
attention ;  and  it  is  this,  —  that,  in  every  age  since 
the  apostolic,  it  has  never  been  at  peace  within  itself. 
Prejudice  and  passion  and  turbulent  tempers  have 
grown  up  with  its  growth.  The  tares  have  grown 
with  the  wheat.  Great  value  has  been  set  upon  the 
intellectual  expression  of  its  doctrines;  and  that  is 
right :  but  too  little  attention  has  been  paid  to  the 
development  of  its  inward,  spiritual  life ;  and  this  is 
wrong.  Men  have  thought  and  stated  the  truth  more 
correctly  than  they  have  lived  it.  The  close  and 
harmonious  connection  which  should  exist  between 
the  perceptions  and  the  emotions  has  been  thereby 
lost ;  and  discordance  has  been  the  result.  Men  have 
journeyed  to  conflict  and  antagonism  along  the  path 
of  nature,  and  not  of  grace.  By  nature,  man  is  posi- 
tive, and  proud  of  his  opinions,  self-asserting,  and 
arrogant.  It  is  a  very  fine  line  that  divides  firmness 
from  obstinacy ;  and  many  have  passed  over  without 


344  KINDLY   AFFECTIONS 

knowing  it.  Christians,  even,  have  lost  the  disposition 
of  love  one  for  another  in  their  adherence  to  what 
seemed  to  either  party  to  be  the  best  and  only  form 
in  which  to  state  the  truth.  You  are  familiar  with 
history ;  and  you  know  that  even  in  this  city,  since  it 
was  founded,  many  instances  have  occurred  illustrat- 
ing this  tendency  to  sink  the  Christian  in  the  theolo- 
gian, the  disciple  in  the  disputant,  the  missionary  in 
the  bigot.  The  treatment  of  the  earlier  Baptists  and 
Quakers  is  a  case  in  point.  When  those  who  bear 
the  name  of  Christ  can  persecute  people,  it  is  sure 
evidence  that  their  views  of  what  constitutes  faithful- 
ness to  God  are  radically  wrong.  Charity  is  faith- 
fulness :  brotherly  love  is  loyalty  to  Jesus. 

You  see,  therefore,  that  it  is  not  enough  to  refrain 
from  feeling  unkindly  toward  people.  It  is  not 
enough  not  to  hate  or  hurt  a  man :  you  should  love 
him  and  benefit  him.  Indifference  is  not  Christianity: 
it  is  not  even  humanity.  The  sun  must  do  more 
than  give  light  sufficient  to  reveal  itself:  it  must 
shine  upon  orbs  that  would  otherwise  be  forever 
dark ;  it  must  search  every  sod  of  earth  with  its  vivi- 
fying warmth ;  it  must  compel  the  rose  to  fragrance, 
and  extort  sweetness  even  from  the  brier.  So  it  is 
with  us.  We  must  communicate  the  light  in  our  own 
life  to  others.  We  must  warm  cold,  inert  natures 
into  growth.  We  must  make  our  hearts  to  other 
hearts  what  the  magnet  is  to  the  sand  into  which  it 
is  thrust.  We  must  impel  their  senseless  natures 
toward  us,  and  charge  them  to  the  full  with  our  own 
properties. 


THE   EVIDENCE   OF  THUE   PIETY.  345 

There  are  some  here,  I  trust,  who  are  growing  up 
to  become  preachers.  Some  of  you  are  preachers 
already.  To  such,  I  say.  My  friends,  if  you  wish  to 
make  a  man  better,  you  must  make  him  love  you 
first.  Nineteen  out  of  every  twenty  men  hear 
through  their  affections.  Tliey  listen  and  give  heed 
to  you  because  they  like  you.  You  must  get  their 
confidence  before  you  get  their  ear.  Only  lovable 
men  and  women  can  be  serviceable  to  Christ ;  and  we 
must  raise  up  a  class  of  workers  in  the  Church  who 
will  impress  the  world  with  their  goodness,  their 
amiability,  their  purity,  their  whole-liearted  manliness, 
before  we  shall  ever  do  much  toward  converting  the 
world.  The  crabbed,  harsh,  prim,  snappish  people 
are  hinderances,  and  not  helps,  no  matter  what  their 
intentions  are.  They  give  an  evil  advertisement  to 
religion  ;  they  sow  the  seeds  of  misunderstanding 
and  dislike  ;  they  are  marplots  to  every  good  enter- 
prise. 

This,  then,  is  the  premium  that  God  offers  for  spir- 
itual development,  —  usefulness.  To  do  good,  be 
good.  Cherish  kindly  feeling  toward  people :  let 
them  perceive  that  you  do.  Have  a  warm  grasp, 
and  a  bright,  cheerful  face,  for  every  one.  Because  a 
man  will  not  go  in  your  path,  do  not  stone  him  and 
call  him  hard  names.  To  abuse  another's  piety  is 
a  sorry  way  to  prove  your  own.  What  a  contradic- 
tion of  sinners  Christ  experienced  !  How  they  re- 
viled him  !  How  they  lied  about  him  !  They  said 
that  he  was  a  "  wine-bibber  and  a  glutton."  They 
jeered  at  him  as  a  "  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners." 

15* 


346  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

They  insisted  that  he  did  his  miracles  with  the  help 
of  the  Devil.  There  was  nothing  wicked  and  hard 
and  mean  that  they  did  not  say  about  him.  But, 
when  "  reviled,  he  reviled  not  again ;  "  he  kept  about 
his  blessed  work.  How  it  stirs  the  heart  of  one  of 
his  followers  to  read  how  he  conducted  himself  under 
such  treatment !  From  the  supreme  peacefulness  of 
his  own  heart  he  looked  out  upon  them  and  their 
abuse  as  a  child  looks  forth  from  a  window  on  a 
stormy  day  when  the  rain  splashes  in  gusts  against 
the  panes,  and  the  air  is  full  of  the  wild  sobbings  of  the 
storm.  Their  raging  could  not  disturb  the  serenity 
of  his  bosom.  His  character  made  a  great  impression 
even  on  his  enemies.  Its  influence  was  felt  even  in 
the  Sanhedrim.  It  caused  even  Pilate  to  hesitate ; 
he  shrank  from  ordering  this  Galilean  peasant  to  the 
cross.  It  was  not  so  much  his  record  as  it  was  his 
character  that  vindicated  him  before  that  tribunal; 
and  he  went  from  the  presence  of  the  Roman  gov- 
ernor to  his  death  —  and  the  Roman  knew  it  —  an 
innocent  man. 

Is  it  not  possible,  friends,  that  we  need  to  be  more 
impressed  with  the  value  of  piety  as  expressed  in  the 
character,  and  not  as  evidenced  in  intellectual  con- 
victions ?  Do  we  feel  rightly  ?  Are  our  dispositions 
equal  to  our  understanding  ?  Are  we  better  theolo- 
gians than  we  are  Christians  ?  While  we  have  been 
worrying  so  much  about  doctrines,  nave  we  lost  the 
true  practice  ?     Well,  let  every  hfc-art  answ-^r. 

I  shrink  from  expressing  what  m  substance  I  have 
repeatedly  said  to  you ;  but  I  do  wish  to  deckr^  anf^ 


THE  EVIDENCE  OF  TRUE  PIETY.  347 

place  before  you  my  abiding  conviction,  that  intellect- 
ual arrogance  is  very  unseemly  in  a  student  of  God's 
word  and  world  at  the  present  stage  of  interpreta- 
tion and  development.  Do  not  forget  that  "  we  see 
tJirough  a  glass  darkly,"  and  not,  as  yet,  "  face  to  face." 
God  has  never  given  unto  any  one  man,  or  class  of 
men,  to  know  all  his  will,  or  the  application  of  that 
Avill  to  human  affairs.  You  might  as  well  expect 
that  one  pair  of  lungs  could  inhale  the  whole  atmos- 
phere, as  that  one  mind,  or  class  of  minds,  could  re- 
ceive the  perfect  apprehension  of  the  divine  nature. 
Knowledge  of  God  and  of  godliness  grows  with 
the  growth  of  the  human  mind,  and  suffers,  and  must 
always  suffer,  from  the  limitation  of  our  faculties. 
Our  Father  in  heaven  will  appear  to  each  successive 
generation  of  men  more  and  more  vast  and  majestic 
as  they  are  educated  into  wider  views  and  higher  con- 
ceptions of  spiritual  forces.  The  warmth  and  sensi- 
tiveness of  the  divine  nature  will  never  be  appre- 
ciated until  man's  own  nature  has  been  assimilated 
to  it.  Affection  can  alone  appreciate  affection,  and 
tenderness  understand  tenderness.  Formulas  become 
unsatisfactory,  and  are  laid  aside,  because  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  continually  working  out  fuller  and  richer 
developments  in  the  soul;  and  this  s^jiritualization 
of  the  thoughts  and  emotions  of  man  is  better  than  all 
formulas,  and  above  all  creeds.  The  sap,  you  see,  be- 
comes too  abundant :  new  channels  are  needed ;  and 
so  the  trunk  expands  ;  branch  after  branch  is  added  to 
accommodate  the  pressure  from  within.  As  the  soul 
grows  into  the  purely  spiritual,  it  rises  beyond  the 


348  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

need  of  verbal  reliance.  At  death  the  departing  soul 
must  rely  on  a  personal  Saviour,  and  not  on  a  system 
of  truth,  however  correct.  We  are  all  being  grad- 
uated out  of  the  study  of  text-books  into  a  larger  and 
nobler  world  and  life  of  independent  thought  and 
impulse.  When  we  have  reached  the  full  measure  of 
the  stature  of  Christ,  we  shall  need  no  more  the  prop 
of  written  revelation.  In  heaven  the  Bible  will  be 
lived,  not  read.  There  the  holiness  of  its  injunctions 
is  incorporated  into  character ;  and,  in  the  presence  of 
God,  all  verbal  interpretations  of  him  are  out  of  place. 
There  the  Deity  interprets  himself ;  there  the  soul 
apprehends  him  instinctively,  as  our  senses  do  fra- 
grance and  color  here  ;  and  definition  —  that  needed 
resort  of  enfeebled  minds  and  sluggish  consciences  — 
is  not  known. 

I  love  to  think  of  truth  unapprehended  to-day, 
but  destined-^  at  some  future  date  to  be  mine.  The 
endlessness  of  eternity  is  to  me  a  delightful  thought, 
because  it  suggests  a  ceaseless  studentship  and  unlim- 
ited growth.  The  more  I  grow  in  knowledge  of 
God's  will  and  man's  wants,  the  more  I  feel  that  it  is 
impossible  for  any  collection  of  words  to  type  and  ex- 
press the  Deity  as  he  is  to  man  in  Jesus.  Nothing 
is  more  essential  in  my  judgment  than  a  creed,  —  a 
written  statement  of  belief.  It  answers  many  de- 
sirable ends :  it  supplies  strength  to  the  weak,  a  re- 
straint to  the  reckless,  and  a  cable  to  the  buffeted. 
But  I  never  yet  have  seen  a  creed  which  satisfied  my 
mind  or  soul,  —  a  statement  which  expressed  the 
divine  nature  in  any  such  fulness  as  I  conceive  of  it, 


THE  EVIDENCE  OF  TRUE  PIETY.  349 

nor  human  nature  in  any  such  depth  of  need  and 
necessity  as  I  know  it  to  exist.  Nor  do  I  feel  that  I 
have  proceeded  along  any  line  so  far  as  to  have  come 
anywhere  near  to  its  termination  ;  and  subjects  which 
I  once  thought  I  had  mastered,  I  now  feel  I  have 
never  half  examined.  The  sea  I  sounded  yester- 
day has  become  bottomless  to-day ;  and,  if  I  ever 
had  arrogance  of  opinion,  a  growing  sense  of  igno- 
rance is  driving  it  from  my  mind.  Feeling,  therefore, 
that  I  have  not  discovered  every  star,  I  have  great 
respect  for  the  telescopes  of  others.  I  dare  to  say 
that  many  who  think  in  some  respects  differently 
from  myself  will  have  a  longer  catalogue  of  starry 
truths  at  the  close  of  life  as  the  reward  of  greater 
diffidence  as  to  their  conclusions,  and  greater  patience 
to  watch  and  wait. 

I  have  entered  thus  into  an  exposition  of  my  own 
personal  feelings  in  the  hope  that  those  near  my  own 
age  in  this  audience,  of  equally  positive  intellectual 
temperaments,  may  be  withheld  from  an  offensive  big- 
otry of  opinion  and  a  harshness  of  judgment  toward 
those  of  dissimilar  views.  Cherish  always  charity  to 
those  who  are  intellectually  unsettled ;  be  steadfast,  but 
never  obstinate,  in  adherence  to  your  own  conclusions ; 
condemn  no  one,  however  widely  astray  he  may  be 
as  you  judge,  who  is  seeking  honestly  for  light.  Piti- 
ful indeed  is  it  to  see  a  man  grope  with  bandaged  eyes ; 
but  sadder  yet  is  it  to  behold  the  gropings  of  a  dark- 
ened mind.  The  position  which  the  evangelical 
churches  and  preachers  in  this  city  should  take  to- 
ward such  is  clear  as  sunlight.     The  Sermon  on  the 


350  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

Mount  is  the  pivot  upon  which  we  should  all  bal- 
ance ;  with  that  for  our  fulcrum,  and  spiritual  activities 
for  our  lever,  ignorance  and  error,  and  that  denuncia- 
tory bigotry  which  is  often  in  this  city  called  "  liber- 
alism," will  eventually  be  lifted,  and  toppled  over. 
The  glacial  period  in  the  theological  world  is  past. 
Men  of  opposite  convictions  will  not  be  crushed  and 
pulverized  into  unity.  The  courtesy  of  charity,  the 
winning  gentleness  of  Christ,  the  more  abundantly 
outpoured  influence  of  the  S23irit,  will  accomplish  what 
hammers  and  smiting  will  never  effect.  I  sincerely 
hope  that  the  day  of  wrangling  and  fighting  is  past, 
and  that  the  spirit  and  Christ-like  life  will  henceforth 
be  relied  on  to  convert  the  world.  I  believe  that 
there  is  a  common  ground  on  which  humane  men  and 
women  of  all  denominations,  and  of  no  denomination, 
of  most  antagonistic  doctrinal  belief,  shall  come  har- 
moniously together,  and  labor  shoulder  to  shoulder  for 
the  improvement  of  the  morals  of  this  city.  I  see  no 
reason,  — and  I  have  given  the  subject  some  thought, 
—  I  see  no  reason  why  a  Baptist,  an  Episcopalian,  and 
a  Congregationalist,  should  not  work  together  in  an 
effort  to  bandage  a  broken  limb  ;  or  why  Park-street 
Church  and  Horticultural  Hall  should  not  unite  in  a 
noble  ambition  to  cleanse  the  filth  and  clothe  the 
naked  of  North  Street.  I  have  no  idea  that  Mr.  Em- 
erson and  myself,  were  we  standing,  by  chance,  side 
by  side  on  the  bank  of  a  river,  would  not  dash  with  a 
common  impulse  into  the  current  to  rescue  a  boat- 
load of  drowning  children ;  nor  do  I  see  any  reason 
that  should  stand  a  single  moment  in  the  way  to  pre- 


THE  EVIDENCE  OF  TRUE  PIETY.  351 

vent  the  union  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  forces 
that  we  may  chance  to  represent,  in  order  to  save 
from  a  worse  than  watery  grave  the  bodies  and  souls 
of  the  thousands  in  this  city  who  are  being  swamped 
in  a  wilder  and  deeper  sea.  And  I  wish  to  leave 
here  and  now  on  record  my  belief,  that  such  a  union 
will  eventually  be  made,  —  made  in  safety  to  all,  and 
for  the  good  of  all ;  and  that  any  method  of  expres- 
sion in  our  pulpits,  any  style  of  teaching,  any  verbal 
bitterness,  any  arrogance  of  opinion,  which  tends  to 
defer  and  make  impossible  such  a  union  of  forces, 
seems  to  me  most  unfortunate,  and  a  wicked  ignor- 
ing of  existing  facts. 

My  friends,  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  humane 
impulse  in  the  world,  to  the  increase  of  which  we 
should  each  contribute  our  share.  A  man  who  has 
lived,  and  by  his  life  added  nothing  to  the  sympathy 
of  the  world,  has  lived  in  vain.  To  sweeten  the  moral 
atmosphere  by  the  fragrance  of  your  life  ;  to  teach  men 
the  lesson  of  toleration  and  charity,  —  that  hardest 
lesson  to  learn  ;  to  speak  so  kindly  of  opponents  as  to 
make  others  ashamed  to  treat  their  enemies  harshly ; 
to  bear  so  patiently  your  burden  as  to  prevent  others 
from  complaining,  —  is  not  the  least  part  of  man's  duty. 
And  yet  many  seem  incapable  of  appreciating  the 
morally  corrective  influence  of  such  a  life.  They  act 
as  if  the  harmony  of  the  spheres  consisted  in  a  com- 
bination of  thunder-bolts,  and  he  were  the  best  con- 
tributor to  the  universal  melody  who  shakes  the  world 
with  the  violence  of  concussions ;  and  so  they  flash 
and  thunder  away  with  an  electric  energy,  expend- 


352  KINDLY   AFFECTIONS 

ing  all  their  force  against  opposing  persons  and  creeds. 
They  plant  no  tree  to  shade  the  weariness  of  coming 
times  from  future  heats ;  they  revive  no  withered 
fields  with  the  distillation  of  dewy  influences ;  they 
make  no  opening  through  the  thorny  hedge  of  hu- 
man differences  which  shall  serve  as  a  gateway  for 
the  race  to  enter  the  fields  of  plenty  and  of  peace. 
Against  this  barbaric  element,  as  expressed  in  human 
nature,  Christ  came  to  array  himself.  The  cradles 
of  the  world  needed  a  new  model  to  pattern  after  ;  and 
so  he  lived.  The  past  could  not  be  changed ;  the 
present  was  hostile  and  stubborn  :  in  the  future  lay  his 
only  chance.  He  realized  it,  and,  with  the  instinct 
of  a  prophet,  exclaimed,  "  Suffer  the  little  children  to 
come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not ;  for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  What  was  this  but  saying,  "  You 
adults  are  hard  and  intractable  ;  you  have  been  edu- 
cated wrongly ;  your  heroism  is  but  animal  fierce- 
ness ;  your  piety  is  cruel  intolerance,  your  religion 
harsh  and  bigoted.  I  have  come  unto  you  in  the 
simplicity  of  a  frank  and  sinless  nature,  and  you  will 
not  receive  me  :  you  love  darkness  rather  than  light. 
Be  it  so.  Give  me  the  children  ;  let  them  come  to  me ; 
let  them  see  me ;  I  will  be  their  ideal,  and  they  shall 
grow  up  like  me  ;  they  will  read  my  words  when  I 
am  gone;  they  will  hear  of  my  death;  fame  will 
speak  to  them  of  my  deeds;  and  I  will  put  my  spirit 
in  their  hearts,  and  a  new  type  of  manhood  and  wo- 
manhood shall  be  known  in  the  world  "  ?  In  this 
lies  the  secret  of  his  craving  for  the  children.  The 
hope  of  the  world  lay  in  the  cradles  ;  and  to  the  era- 


THE  EVIDENCE  OF  TRUE  PIETY.  353 

dies  he  turned  yearningly,  and  made  his  pathetic  ap- 
peal. What  a  fulfilment  his  hope  has  had  !  He  has 
become  the  ideal  of  all  the  world  knows  of  goodness 
and  truth  ;  and  mothers  all  over  the  globe  are  bring- 
ing their  children  to  him.  Over  how  many  cradles 
will  mothers  sing  of  Christ  to-night !  by  the  side  of 
how  many  couches  will  little  hands  be  clasped !  in 
how  many  chambers,  near  and  far,  will  infant  lips  be 
taught  to  pray  !  and,  when  the  sun  shall  again  appear 
in  the  east,  —  I  never  wonder  that  the  ancients  pic- 
tured him  as  a  god,  and  seated  him  in  a  car,  —  when 
the  sun,  I  say,  shall  again  appear  in  the  east,  the  globe 
will  have  been  belted  with  one  prolonged  sound  of 
prayer,  and  j^our  little  child  shall  only  assist  that  dec- 
laration of  praise  whose  line  has  gone  out  to  all  the 
earth,  and  whose  words  have  reached  to  the  end  of 
the  world. 

And  now,  my  friends,  what  is  the  lesson  of  this 
position?  It  is  this,  —  all  harshness  of  speech,  all 
captiousness,  all  suspicion,  all  bigotry,  all  unfriend- 
liness of  thought  and  utterance,  all  fault-finding,  all 
judgment  unsupported  by  knowledge,  or,  if  so  sup- 
ported, nevertheless  uncalled  for,  are  but  personal, 
and,  so  far  as  the  public  are  influenced,  public  lapses 
into  barbarism,  —  that  barbarism  that  was  before 
Christ  came.  Its  tendency  in  a  church  or  a  family, 
or  in  social  life,  is  all  one  way,  and  a  bad  way  at 
that.  I  enter  my  protest  as  a  man  and  as  a  Chris- 
tian against  it ;  I  re-enforce  my  protest  with  the 
words  of  Him,  the  latchet  of  whose  shoes  I  am  not 
worthy  to  unloose,  when  he   said   to   his   disciples, 


354  KINDLY  AFFECTIONS 

"  Judge  not,  lest  ye  be  judged ; "  and  to  this,  with 
cumulative  emphasis,  I  add  the  command  of  the  apos- 
tle, "Be  kindly  affectioned  one  to  another  with 
brotherly  love." 

I  know  to  whom  I  speak.  I  speak  advisedly,  and 
address  my  words  to  those  in  whose  hearts  they  may 
the  longest  abide  I  speak  to  you  whose  characters 
are  forming,  whose  natures  are  yet  plastic,  and  are 
being  shaped  by  the  touch  of  every  impression ;  to 
you  whose  piety  is  tj^pical,  because  it  foreshadows 
what  the  piety  of  the  future  shall  be ;  I  speak  to  you 
who  are  nobly  ambitious  to  incorporate  in  your  lives 
the  purest  elements  of  the  New  Testament,  —  the 
purity,  the  self-sacrifice,  the  patience,  the  charity, 
which  shine  out  of  and  illumine  all  its  pages.  Se- 
lecting these,  and  whatever  of  intellectual  humility 
and  kindly  feelings  this  discourse  has  advocated,  I 
bring  them  all  together,  like  threads  perfect  in  their 
whiteness,  and  weave  them  into  one  broad  banner. 
With  whatever  resolution  I  may  command  for  the 
staff,  I  plant  it  here  in  this  pulpit  to-day.  Here, 
where  Griffin  preached  and  prayed,  upholding  the 
faith  once  dehvered  to  the  saints,  without  bitterness 
to  any ;  here,  where  Stone  for  seventeen  years  pro- 
claimed liberty  for  the  slave,  and  exemplified  cour- 
tesy to  men,  —  I  plant,  I  say,  with  whatever  warmth 
of  heart  and  strength  of  will  I  have,  this  standard 
and  this  banner,  and  call  upon  you  to  rally  to  it. 
The  staff  may  part;  the  standard  may  fall:  but  the 
folds  of  the  banner  shall  never  be  rent,  or  the  banner 
itself  droop ;  for^  in  the  hour  of  peril,  angel-hands, 


THE  EVIDENCE  OP  TEUE  PIETY.  355 

white  as  its  own  folds,  shall  bear  it  up,  until  not  alone 
you,  but  this  whole  city,  joined  in  one  humane  and 
reverent  brotherhood,  shall  stand  with  you  beneath 
it,  and,  with  uncovered  heads  and  uplifted  faces,  say, 
"  This  is  the  banner  of  our  God." 


SABBATH  MOBJflJfG,  MARCH  3, 1872. 


SERMON. 


SUBJECT. -ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL. 
"Abhor  that  -vthich  is  evtl."— Rom. xii. 9. 

THERE  are  some  words  that  are  pictures.  They 
appeal  to  the  imagination.  Around  them  the 
mind  groups  collateral  associations.  Such  a  word  is 
"love."  It  does  not  stand  alone,  but  as  the  central 
figure  of  a  group.  It  is  not  a  single  conception :  it 
is  the  one  clearly-defined  tree  of  the  foreground,  with 
a  landscape  of  a  thousand  objects  back  of  and  around 
it.  Love  suggests  father  and  mother,  brother  and 
sister,  parent  and  child,  friend  and  lover,  home,  and  a 
long  train  of  domestic  associations.  Take,  again,  the 
word  "  war."  You  cannot  isolate  the  word  from  the 
fierce  group  of  horrors  which  cling  around  it.  There 
are  blood  and  death,  famine  and  conflagration,  and 
the  hoarse  roar  of  battle,  in  the  word;  and  the 
imagination  must  take  in  all  these,  and  press  them 
home  upon  the  consciousness,  before  one  can  realize 
what  is  meant  by  the  word  "  war."  Now,  the  Bible 
is  full  of  these  words  that  are  verbal  pictures.  He 
who  reads  the  Scripture  with  the  reason  and  judg- 

356 


ABHORRENCE  OP  EVIL.  357 

ment  alone  can  never  be  impressed  witli  its  power ; 
but  read,  not  with  one  faculty,  or  class  of  faculties, 
but  with  every  faculty,  and  it  becomes  a  sublime 
and  terrible  instrument  to  affect  the  mind  and 
heart. 

Now,  this  word  "abhor"  belongs  to  that  class  of 
words  which  appeal  to  the  imagination.  Etymological- 
ly,  it  means  to  bristle  ;  to  stand  on  end  with  fright  or 
excitement ;  to  be  repelled  from  an  object  with  the 
violent  force  of  an  uncontrollable  aversion  and  re- 
pugnance. Now,  Paul  was  a  scholar  and  a  linguist. 
His  vocabulary  was  enriched  with  the  knowledge 
of  many  tongues.  He  was  a  dealer  in  words,  as  all 
public  speakers  and  writers  are.  He  weighed  his 
expressions  as  an  ancient  money-changer  did  his 
coin.  He  selected  his  shaft  from  a  full  quiver,  like 
an  adroit  archer.  He  shot  to  kill.  A  great  part 
of  the  intellectual  pleasure  derived  from  a  perusal 
of  Paul's  writings  comes  from  the  power  and  accu- 
racy of  his  language.  His  words  are  picked  words. 
Like  soldiers  selected  to  carry  a  point  that  must  be 
captured,  they  are  full  of  vigor  and  power,  —  full  of  an 
irrepressible  energy.  They  smite  like  cannon-balls  ; 
they  come  down  upon  the  conscience  like  a  ponderous 
battle-axe  on  a  helmet ;  they  are  aimed  with  the 
unerring  precision  of  a  rifle-bullet.  It  is  impossible 
for  guilt  to  read  the  Pauline  epistles,  and  not  shrink 
and  cry  out.  He  uses  single  words  as  no  other  writer 
that  I  have  ever  read.  The  study  of  Paul's  vocabu- 
lary is  the  study  of  theology.  You  sink  with  his 
phrases  to  the  depth  of  human  depravity ;  you  rise 


358  ABHOEPvENCE  OF  EVIL. 

as  with  wings  that  lift  you  with  a  majesty  of  motion 
to  the  air  where  the  glorified  of  God  alone  soar. 

Now,  suppose  one  wishes  to  understand  and  obey 
this  injunction ;  suppose  he  wishes  to  learn  what  is 
the  relation  and  sentiment  of  a  Christian  soul  toward 
evil :  what  must  he  do  ?  Evidently  this :  Ascer- 
tain what  this  word  "abhor"  means;  what  is  the 
diameter  of  the  circumference  which  includes  all  its 
significance;  what  is  the  measure  of  feehng  which 
corresponds  to  the  term  here  used.  Knowledge  of 
this  is  the  first  step  toward  obedience. 

Now,  every  one  of  us  desires  to  know  just  what 
should  be  our  feeling  toward  evil ;  for  conduct  is  but 
the  expression  of  feeling.  As  a  man  feels,  he  acts. 
There  is  no  real  virtue,  above  the  level  of  fear,  that 
is  higher  than  the  convictions.  Fear  modifies  action : 
but  release  man  from  fear,  and  he  will  act  himself  out 
precisely;  for  an  evil  tree  cannot  bring  forth  good 
fruit. 

Now,  Paul  is  giving  to  the  Christians  of  the  Church 
at  Rome  just  what  they  all  needed,  —  a  true  measure 
of  feeling  by  which  to  be  guided  in  their  conduct 
toward  evil.  It  was  a  very  practical  direction.  Evil 
was  all  around  them :  they  saw  it  in  the  system  of 
government  then  prevailing,  in  the  behavior  of  the 
rich,  in  the  licentiousness  of  society,  in  the  violence 
of  the  rabble.  We  may  well  suppose  that  many 
times,  individually  and  as  a  body,  they  had  longed  to 
go  to  the  apostle,  as  to  the  highest  authority,  and 
Bay,  "  Tell  us  how  we  are  to  feel  toward  sin ;  give 
us  some   invariable  rule,  some  definite  instruction, 


ABHOEEENCE  OP  EVIL.  359 

to  guide  us  in  this  matter."  We  must  remember, 
that,  at  the  time  when  this  epistle  was  written,  Chris- 
tianity was  in  a  crude  state.  The  New  Testament, 
as  we  have  it,  was  not  known.  The  churches  had  no 
collocation  of  Sacred  Scriptures  to  which  to  go,  as 
we  have,  for  direction.  Christianity  was  in  its  in- 
fancy. As  a  system  of  truth,  as  a  teacher  of  ethics, 
it  was  being  formed.  Paul  was  a  guide,  blazing  a 
path  through  the  tangled  morals  and  the  unexplored 
wilderness  of  the  world's  sins;  and  this  was  one 
of  the  waymarks  he  made.  As  a  hunter  in  a  forest, 
when  threading  his  way  through  the  bewildcMug 
pines  on  a  clouded  day  toward  a  distant  point,  lifts 
his  axe,  and  strikes  a  piece  of  bark  as  large  as  his  hat 
from  the  side  of  a  giant  tree,  saying  to  himself, 
"  There,  nobody  will  ever  fail  to  see  that ;  "  so  Paul 
left  this  word,  as  he  was  opening  up  the  path 
of  Christian  morals,  like  a  broad,  unmistakable  sign, 
as  a  guide  for  those  who  should  come  after  him. 

My  friends,  have  we  all  seen  this  sign  on  the  tree  ? 
Have  we  passed  by  Paul's  landmark?  Have  we 
been  following  along  his  road  ?  Have  we  "  ab- 
horred "  sin  ?  Have  we  felt  this  strong,  Pauline, 
gospel  detestation  of  evil  ?  Have  we  shrunk  back 
from  it,  as  a  woman  shrinks,  with  the  suddenness 
of  uncontrollable  fear,  from  an  adder  coiled  in  her 
path?  Have  we  failed  in  this  respect?  If  so,  how 
great  a  failure  is  it  ?  and  what  shall  we  do  ? 

In  the  first  place,  I  remark  that  the  failure  to  feel 
this  abhorrence  of  evil  is,  by  as  much  as  it  is  experi- 
enced, a  proof  that  our  spiritual  and  moral  condition 


360  ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL. 

is  not  good.  When  flesh  is  stricken  with  the  numb- 
ness of  paralysis,  it  does  not  feel  the  puncture  of  a 
pin ;  and  the  reason  is,  because  the  nerves  which 
telegraph  the  pain  to  the  great  nervous  centre  — 
the  brain  —  are  inoperant.  The  connection  between 
the  member  and  the  seat  of  the  sensations  is  lost. 
The  wires  are  cut,  and  communication  is  destroyed. 
The  fact  that  the  patient  does  not  feel  the  surgeon's 
test  proves  this.  The  state  or  condition  demon- 
strates the  cause.  So  it  is  between  the  soul  and 
Christ,  who  is  to  each  of  us,  as  his  followers,  what 
the  brain  sensationally  is  to  the  body.  To  be  con- 
nected to  Christ  is  to  feel  as  he  feels;  to  have  his 
temper  and  disposition.  We  are  then  truly  members 
of  his  body.  Now,  we  know  how  he  felt  toward 
sin,  —  toward  its  enticements  and  seductions.  You 
recall  his  reply  to  the  Tempter  when  tempting  him. 
You  know  how  intense  is  the  moral  antagonism  of  the 
two.  And,  when  Paul  selects  the  word  "  abhor  "  as 
descriptive  of  that  feeling  that  a  follower  of  Christ 
should  have  toward  evil,  we  know  that  he  did  not 
go  beyond  the  truth.  Knowing  as  he  did  what 
Christ's  feelings  were,  he  could  not  have  chosen  a 
milder  or  a  less  intense  word. 

Now,  as  I  have  said,  one  of  the  tests  that  Christ  is 
or  is  not  with  a  soul  is  found  in  the  presence  or 
absence  of  this  abhorrence  of  evil  in  the  soul ;  and 
the  question  comes  home  to  every  follower  of  the 
Saviour  present,  "  Have  I  this  abhorrence  ?  "  I  make 
no  application  of  this  feeling,  friends;  I  leave  that 
for  each  of  you  to  do  for  yourself:   I  inquire  only 


ABHOKRENCE  OF  EVIL.  361 

as  to  its  presence  in  your  heart.  Among  other  evi- 
dences, have  you  this  evidence  that  you  are  Christ's? 
Do  you  look  upon  any  evil,  and  not  feel  its  enormity? 
Do  you  tolerate  any  sin  in  yourself?  Is  the  pres- 
ence of  evil  in  this  city  a  daily  worry  and  anxiety  to 
your  soul  ?  Can  you  buy  and  sell  in  company  with 
trickery  and  deceit  ?  Do  you  carry  your  abhorrence 
of  sin  into  politics,  and  vote  as  you  pray  ?  What  is 
your  status,  judged  by  this  text  ? 

I  think  that  we  shall  grow,  in  time,  to  consider  such 
questions  as  these  as  the  pivotal  ones  in  Christian 
experience.  For  centuries,  the  foremost  interroga- 
tion of  Christendom  has  been,  "  What  do  you  believe  ? 
How  do  you  interpret  this  ?  Do  you  assent  to  that  ?  " 
The  perceptive  powers  have  held  sway,  and  dominat- 
ed over  the  emotive  faculties.  But,  my  friends,  the 
Church  will  see  its  error  in  time.  God  will  at  last 
touch  our  blurred  eyes  ;  and  brethren  will  no  longer 
smite  each  other,  not  knowing  whom  they  hit.  We 
grant  the  value  of  intellect.  We  have  spoken  as 
strong  words  as  any  one  in  support  of  maintaining  a 
creed.  No  one  but  an  ignorant  or  wicked  person  can 
possibly  misunderstand  our  position.  But,  granting 
the  full  importance  of  the  perceptive  faculties  in 
theology,  —  and  they  have  high  uses,  —  still  these  are 
not  supreme.  Faith  was  never  declared  to  be  "  the 
fulfilling  of  the  law."  Statements  and  definitions 
of  belief  are  not  of  primary  importance.  The  letter 
is  beneath  the  spirit.  It  is  the  emotive,  and  not 
the  perceptive  power,  that  the  Holy  Ghost  regen- 
erates ;  and  the  result  aimed  at  is  not  improvement 

16 


362  ABHOREENCE  OF  EVIL. 

in  man's  philosophy,  so  much  as  improvement  in  his 
practice.  I  would  sooner  have  you  all  so  changed  in 
heart  and  soul  from  what  you  were  when  in  the  state 
of  nature,  as  to  "  abhor "  evil,  than  to  see  you  all 
qualified  to  fill  chairs  of  systematic  theology  in  our 
theological  seminaries.  It  is  not  increase  of  theo- 
logical knowledge  that  the  earth  needs :  it  is  the 
more  universal  dissemination  of  Christian  feeling.  I 
set  you  so  frequently  face  to  face  with  this  great 
truth,  because  it  is  the  solar  truth  of  the  Christian 
scheme,  and  the  pillar  of  guiding  flame,  commanded 
of  God  to  precede  and  direct  the  march  of  the  ages. 
It  is  not  Christ  in  your  heads,  but  Christ  enthroned 
in  your  hearts,  that  I  would  fain  advance.  In  spite 
of  the  prayer  and  command  of  the  Master,  that  his 
disciples  might  be  one  as  he  and  the  Father  are  one ; 
notwithstanding  that  this  immortal  aspiration  has 
been  before  their  eyes,  and  sounded  in  their  ears,  at 
almost  every  recurring  sacrament ;  notwithstanding 
the  striving  of  the  Spirit  for  these  twenty  centuries, 
that  the  same  mind  might  be  in  her  membership  that 
is  in  Christ  Jesus,  —  notwithstanding  all  this,  I  say, 
the  deplorable  assertion  is  true,  that  the  history  of  the 
Church  has  been  the  history  of  division  and  differ- 
ences. The  ages  back  of  us  resound  with  the  cry 
of  the  zealot  and  the  bigot:  they  are  filled  with 
the  voice  of  contention  and  anathema.  The  spring 
opened  by  the  love  of  God  on  Calvary  had  scarcely 
become  a  stream  before  its  pure  waters  were  defiled 
by  the  trampling  of  contestants;  and,  alas!  they 
remain  turbid  to  this  day. 


ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL.  3(33 

Is  there  a  man  in  this  audience  who  longs  to  con- 
tinue this  state  of  things?  What  Christian  heart 
here  pants  to  prolong  the  strife  of  words,  the  battle 
of  hostile  intellects,  the  spirit  of  contention  and 
bitterness?  Let  the  graves  have  their  victory,  I 
saj%  and  cover  forever  beneath  their  grasses  the  war- 
riors and  the  war.  Palsied  forever  be  the  hand 
that  would  scatter  the  teeth  of  dragons !  Silenced 
be  the  tongue  that  would  launch  forth  a  battle- 
cry  among  brethren !  If  we  are  of  the  family  of 
God,  then  let  peace  be  and  abide,  like  an  angel 
of  light,  in  the  circle  of  our  banded  love. 

Is  there  a  religion  of  the  heart,  friends  ?  and,  if  so, 
do  you  feel  it  ?  Is  there  a  piety  of  the  soul  which 
says  to  the  head,  "  Thou  art  my  servant,  and  not  my 
master  "  ?  Is  there  a  union  of  mind  with  mind  such 
as  cements  in  sweet  accord  the  intelligences  of 
heaven?  Is  there  a  sea  somewhere,  unvexed  by 
storms,  in  which  all  ships  may  sail ;  over  which  no 
sun  shines,  nor  mopn,  nor  stars,  and  yet  which  is 
illumined  from  centre  unto  its  golden  marge  by  the 
light  which  cometh  forth  from  the  throne  of  God, 
and  from  Him,  yea,  from  that  inconceivable  splendor, 
called  in  Scripture  "the  Light  of  the  world"?  If 
so,  my  people,  I  charge  you  to  sail  that  sea.  Unite 
your  hearts.  Hate  with  one  accord  the  things  hateful 
to  God.  Love  the  things  that  are  lovely  and  above 
reproach.  The  fathers  trusted  themselves  to  cur- 
rents of  their  own  starting ;  and  they  wrecked  their 
own  peace  and  the  peace  of  the  Church.  The  elder 
Beecher  was  wont  to  grieve,  and  express  grave  doubts, 


364  ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL. 

whether  Bishop  Heber  was  of  those  born  of  God. 
How  much  wiser  he  is  to-day !  How  much  those  old 
preachers  have  learned  of  the  love  of  God  since 
when  they  fought  each  other,  and  moaned  and 
grieved  over  each  other's  lapses,  as  they  conceived, 
from  the  true  faith !  Taylor  and  Tyler  no  longer 
contend.  Beecher  and  Nettleton  are  no  longer  sepa- 
rated. Woods  has  no  longer  need  to  labor  to  har- 
monize differences  between  brethren.  Even  Calvin 
and  Channing  have  found  a  common  platform  at  last, 
and  stand,  hand  clasped  in  hand,  happy  in  a  common 
love,  before  the  throne  of  an  infinite  and  a  like-expe- 
rienced mercy. 

These  personal  allusions  naturally  lead  us  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  second  division  of  the  subject. 
The  command  of  the  text  is,  "  Abhor  that  which  is 
evil."  It  does  not  enjoin,  "  Abhor  him  who  is  evil," 
but  that;  not  the  evil  person,  but  the  evil  temper 
or  tendency,  —  the  evil  in  the  person.  Here,  you  see, 
is  a  wide  distinction,  suggested  by  the  employment 
of  a  single  word.  Had  it  been  "  Abhor  him,"  it  would 
have  enjoined  a  religion  of  hate,  and  not  a  religion  of 
love.  It  is  sin  God  hates,  not  the  sinner.  It  is  the 
evil  in  you,  —  the  bad  temper,  the  rebellious  will, 
the  unrepented  wickedness,  —  and  not  yourself,  my 
hearer,  that  your  Creator  and  Judge  condemns.  A 
loving  father  does  not  cease  to  love  a  disobedient 
child.  Condemnation  and  punishment  do  not  denote 
the  cessation  of  affection.  It  is  true  that  you  can 
only  reach  the  crime  through  the  criminal.  You  must 
put  the  thief,  if  you  would  check  the  thieving  propen- 


ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIIi.  3G5 

sity,  into  jail.  But  this  organic  necessity  —  this  insep- 
arability, before  the  law,  of  agent  and  act  —  does  not 
militate  against  the  truth  of  the  statement,  that  the 
object  of  the  abhorrence  is  not  the  doer,  but  the  deed. 
For,  albeit  that  the  world  was  full  of  sin,  —  yea,  full  to 
the  very  brim  of  uncleanliness,  —  still  it  is  recorded 
that  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  This 
makes  the  statement  incontrovertible. 

What  then,  in  the  light  of  Scripture,  is  our  duty  ? 
Plainly  this,  —  ohey.  Nor  is  obedience  at  all  compli- 
cated or  difl&cult,  granted  a  willing  disposition.  It 
is  impurity  in  the  atmosphere,  and  not  the  air  itself, 
against  which  the  senses  revolt.  The  air  is  pure,  and 
to  be  breathed  freely.  It  is  the  contaminated  and 
contaminating  current  which  has  intruded  itself  into 
the  healthful  element  from  which  men  shrink  and 
flee.  Yet  this  love  for  wicked  men  is  the  result  and 
triumph  of  grace,  and  not  of  nature.  By  nature, 
man  is  not  benevolent ;  and  the  wars,  the  cruelty 
and  barbarism,  of  ages,  witness  to  the  truth  of  the 
statement.  If  Christianity  did  not  absolutely  give 
birth  to  humanity,  it  has  incontestably  developed  it. 
But  the  impulse  of  humanity  in  its  highest  form  is  not 
the  impulse  of  love.  It  is  not  in  any  sense  the  seed 
from  which  sprang  the  consummate  flower  of  modern 
civilization.  The  two  emotions  are  as  distinct  as  two 
trees  of  different  species.  The  Christian  religion,  as 
you  see,  is  not  an  improvement  of  the  old  religions ; 
not  the  refinement  and  spiritualization  of  the  old  phi- 


366  ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL. 

losophies :  it  is  a  new  religion,  like  unto  none  other 
that  the  world  ever  saw.  Many  of  its  precepts  and 
maxims,  it  is  true,  are  similar  to  those  that  had  been 
enunciated  long  before  Christ  came ;  but  the  spirit 
which  clothed  the  dry  bones  with  flesh,  which  ani- 
mated the  lifeless  forms  of  truth,  breathing  vitality 
and  energy  into  every  nerveless  joint  and  withered 
vein,  was  born,  and  born  alone,  on  Calvary.  Chris- 
tianity is  not  the  last  and  fairest  of  a  long  succession 
of  children :  it  is  the  first-born  and  only-begotten  of 
God.  This  is  the  simple  historical  truth ;  and  may 
none  of  you,  through  vain  philosophy,  be  led  away  and 
deceived !  Against  sin,  God  is  as  a  thunder-gust 
when  it  rideth  forth  in  blackness,  with  the  whirlwind 
for  its  chariot,  and  the  terrible  lightnings  for  the  ex- 
pression of  its  power.  Toward  the  sinner  he  is  like 
the  light  of  the  morning,  which  waketh  a  slumbering 
world  to  life  ;  or  as  the  rain  which  comes  with  refresh- 
ment to  the  earth,  and  washeth  the  stains  from  the 
soiled  faces  of  the  flowers.  Oh  for  an  exhibition  of 
God  in  the  thunder,  that  the  sin  and  iniquity  wrought 
into  systems  might  be  beaten  down !  Oh  for  the 
dawn  of  the  light,  that  the  sleeping  virtues  of  our 
souls  may  be  aroused !  If  you  would  imitate  Je- 
hovah, ye  followers  of  him,  take  sin  by  the  throat, 
and  the  sinner  by  the  hand. 

But  this  abhorrence  of  evil  which  we  are  com- 
manded to  feel  is  not  a  natural  growth:  it  is  the 
result  of  education.  Let  me  explain.  By  nature, 
no  one  hates  sin.  There  is  no  natural  repulsion  from 
it  in  the  human  heart.     I  am  not  reasoning  theologi- 


ABHORRBJtCE  OF  EVIL.  367 

cally  now;  I  am  not  going  over,  like  a  parrot,  the 
orthodox  belief:  I  am  drawing  my  conclusions  from 
observation  and  experience.  What  is  the  conclusion 
of  observation  ?  It  is  this,  —  that  men  err  easily.  It 
does  not  require  a  great  effort  for  man  to  do  evil. 
Thieves  and  burglars  and  murderers  are  not  mar- 
tyrs. There  is  in  the  human  race,  and  has  been  dur- 
ing all  the  years  of  which  history  tells  us,  a  great  law 
of  evil  gravitation.  By  the  weight  of  inward  inclina- 
tions, by  the  action  of  downward-tending  affinities, 
men  degrade.  The  trouble  has  been,  —  and,  as  you  all 
know,  it  requires  great  effort,  —  the  trouble  has  been, 
I  say,  to  project  men  upward.  Of  all  the  streams 
started,  out  of  whatever  soil  springing,  under  what- 
ever sky,  whether  their  sources  were  in  valleys  or  on 
mountains,  wherever  located,  under  whatever  condi- 
tions of  individual,  tribal,  or  national  life,  still,  whether 
rippling,  or  flowing  with  deep  channels  and  full  banks, 
the  currents  of  all  have  set  one  way :  they  have  all 
flowed  toward,  and  emptied  themselves  into,  the 
great,  deep,  unfathomable  gulf  of  human  corruption. 
The  sea  that  the  ships  of  hell  sail  knows  no  ebb, 
suffers  no  drought.  ^It  has  been  so  from  the  begin- 
ning :  it  is  equally  so  to-day.  As  a  race,  man  is  not 
by  nature  amiable ;  he  is  not  peaceable ;  he  is  not 
humane.  If  not  this,  who  is  here  who  dares  reject 
this  saying,  —  "  He  is  no t  holy  "  ?  No  one  can  deny  this 
testimony  of  observation.  Man's  status  by  nature  is 
proved  beyond  cavil,  beyond  peradventure.  It  is 
Bhown  by  the  customs  of  every  heathen  tribe,  by  the 
vices  of  every  civilized  nation.     You  read  it  in  every 


368  ABHOEEENCE  OF  EVIL. 

law  written  in  your  statute-books,  in  every  jail  you 
are  taxed  to  build,  in  every  precaution  you  take  in 
business,  in  every  lock  and  bolt  on  the  doors  of  your 
dwellings.  When  orthodox  preachers  declare  that 
man  by  nature  is  sinful,  they  do  not  advertise  a 
notion  peculiar  to  their  own  sect ;  they  do  not  say 
so  merely  because  Paul  and  Calvin  and  Edwards  said 
it :  they  say  it  because  it  is  a  fact^  the  evidence  and 
sure  proof  of  which  is  fresh,  constantly  corroborated, 
and  patent  to  all.  It  is  the  only  explanation  which 
fully  accounts  for  the  phenomenon  of  evil  in  the 
world. 

If  impelled  by  a  stubborn  determination  not  to  yield 
this  point  until  the  evidence  partakes  of  the  force  and 
characteristics  of  an  avalanche,  a  presence  and  ma- 
jesty that  you  cannot  resist,  —  if  this  is  your  spirit, 
and  you  call  for  proof,  I  retort  on  you.  Look  within. 
Now,  my  hearer,  I  know  nothing  of  your  life ;  but 
you  know  I  would  not  draw  aside  the  curtain  behind 
which  seven-tenths  of  your  life  lie  hidden,  three-tenths 
only  being  visible.  Let  it  hang  there  undisturbed, 
with  untouched  cord  and  woven  folds.  I  would  not 
lift  the  fringe  with  my  finger.  A  day  will  come  in 
which  it  shall  be  drawn  aside  ;  yea,  an  hour  and  a 
moment  will  come,  when  a  swift,  an  invisible,  an 
irresistible  hand,  casting  no  shadow  as  it  falls,  shall 
grasp  it,  and  tear  it  down,  and  fling  it  aside  ;  and  all 
the  secrets,  the  subterfuges,  the  falsities,  the  sins,  of 
your  life,  shall  stand  exposed.  But  that  hand  is  an- 
other's, not  mine  ;  and  that  day  is  somewhere  ahead, 
not  yet.     And  now  I  ask  you  only  to  go  behind  that 


ABHOREENCB  OF  EVIL.  359 

curtain  yourself,  and  standing  there  alone  amid  the 
errors,  the  lapses,  the  struggles,  of  your  life,  —  the 
screen  between  you  and  me,  —  tell  me  if  it  has  been 
easy  to  be  virtuous.  Has  honesty  cost  no  effort  ?  Has 
purity  been  a  thing  you  could  not  lose  ?  Has  temp- 
tation met  with  no  response  ?  Have  you  found  no 
evil  within  answering  to  evil  without  ?  Ah  me  !  the 
knife  is  keen  and  long  and  searching ;  and  it  draws 
blood.  "  Away  with  it,  away  with  it ! "  you  say.  "  It 
is  cruel ;  and  it  hurts.  Put  it  up.  I  yield."  And 
so  we  agree,  do  we,  friend,  that  man  by  nature  does 
not  "  abhor  evil,"  and  abhorrence  must  come,  not 
through  nature,  but  through  grace. 

Hail  to  that  precious  word !  Like  a  well  in  a  des- 
ert, thousands  shall  come  to  it,  and  drink,  ^j  grace ^ 
by  the  sweet  favor  of  God,  is  man  folded  within  the 
embrace  of  his  love.  By  the  touch  of  its  infinite 
power,  the  blinded  eyes  are  made  to  see,  the  deaf 
ears  to  hear,  the  insensible  heart  to  feel,  the  sinful- 
ness of  sin.  Not  alone  by  salvation  is  the  goodness 
of  God  manifested,  but  more  yet,  as  I  often  think, 
in  making  incapacity  capable,  insensibility  sensitive, 
and  so  renewing  the  nature  that  the  affinities  and 
antagonisms  of  it  become  but  a  reflection  of  his  own. 
It  is  not  the  heaven  he  is  to  give  me,  but  the  heaven 
already  mine,  for  which  I  thank  him.  Like  a  slave 
just  emancipated,  fresh  from  chains,  with  the  marks 
of  the  whip  unhealed  on  his  back,  with  his  ankles 
and  wrists  swollen  from  the  torture  of  the  shackles, 
I  know  not  what  wealth,  what  refinement,  what 
enlargement  of  capacity,  what  joys,  are  ahead:   I 

16* 


370  ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL. 

only  know  that  I  am  free.  I  am  no  longer  under 
dominion  to  my  old  taskmaster;  I  am  no  longer 
bound :  I  am  emancipated ;  I  am  redeemed ;  I  am  a 
free  man  in  Christ  Jesus.  This  is  all  I  care  to  know. 
Let  the  future  alone.  My  cup  runneth  over  as  it  is. 
Say  nothing  of  what  I  am  to  have  and  to  be.  This 
is  luxury, — to  feel  that  I  have  my  freedom  ;  to  feel 
that  I  am  free.  No  more  as  a  beggar,  but  as  one 
rescued  from  poverty,  and  who  goeth  to  the  door 
of  his  benefactor  to  give  thanks  daily,  go  I  to  God  in 
prayer,  —  no  more  to  ask  as  one  who  has  not ;  for  in 
Christ  he  has  given  me  all.  "  How  dull  and  stupid  I 
have  been !  "  I  say  often  to  myself.  "  I  have  made  it 
a  duty  to  feel  poor,  when  God  has  made  it  a  duty  for 
me  to  feel  rich.  Like  a  sluggish  or  over-timid  bird, 
I  have  clung  to  the  miserable  and  outgrown  nest 
when  the  wings  ached  for  exercise,  the  winds  solicited 
my  weight,  the  Spirit  was  pushing  me,  and  the  illim- 
itable spaces,  calling  from  all  their  crystal  depths, 
said,  *  Come  up  into  us,  and  enjoy  your  freedom,  and 
grow  your  power.' "  And  I  have  said  to  myself,  hesi- 
tating, as  one  suddenly  made  rich  hesitates  to  believe 
his  good  fortune,  "  Yes ;  it  must  be  so :  the  apostle 
was  right  when  he  said, '  Rejoice  evermore ;  and  again 
I  say.  Rejoice.' " 

This,  then,  is  the  source  of  that  abhorrence  of  sin 
which  the  Scripture  makes  it  a  duty  for  us  all  to  feel. 
It  is  the  result  of  the  new  birth ;  it  is  the  result  and 
proof  of  holiness.  It  should  exist,  it  should  bo  felt 
in  full  measure,  by  us  all. 

And  now,  friends,  what  more  need  I  say  ?     You 


ABHOEKENCB  OF  EVIL.  37 1 

know,  each  and  all  of  you,  how  much  of  sin  dwells 
in  you.  I  think  I  have  shown  you  how  it  works, 
and  to  what  result  it  leads.  When  you  find  your 
thoughts  on  the  morrow  running  in  an  evil  way,  your 
imagination  lending  its  powers  to  sin,  if  you  will 
recall  what  I  have  said,  it  may,  perchance,  serve  to 
help  you,  and  prove  a  kind  of  check.  Were  I  to 
exhort,  I  should  s?«y  to  every  one  of  you  here.  Get 
sin  by  the  throat  as  you  would  a  robber  and  a  mur- 
derer. Kill,  first  of  all,  that  sin  which  is  killing  you 
fastest,  —  that  besetting,  that  productive  sin,  which, 
true  to  the  prohfic  instinct  of  evil,  begets  a  thousand 
other  sins.  If  it  is  your  right  hand  which  offends 
you,  if  it  is  your  eye  even,  whatever  precious  fac- 
ulty it  is,  cut  it  off,  pluck  it  out,  and  cast  it  from 
you ;  maim  yourself  touching  any  earthly  use  or  enjoy- 
ment, if  thereby  you  can  enter  into  the  enlarged  and 
ever-enlarging  life  of  the  soul.  That  life  will  be 
sublime.  Then  will  our  highest  faculties  find  their 
highest  use ;  and  out  of  those  already  ours,  as  flow- 
ers and  trees  come  out  of  seeds,  new  powers  will 
spring.  No  exercise  shall  tire,  no  grossness  weigh 
us  down.  We  shall  float  upon  that  atmosphere  of 
life,  and  rest,  as  I  have  seen  falcons  in  the  warm  sum- 
mer-time hang  over  meadows,  lying  on  the  air  motion- 
less, a  bunch  of  feathers  smitten  by  the  sun,  a 
winged  radiance  ;  for  there  the  corruptible  shall  have 
put  on  incorruption,  and  the  mortal  shall  have  put  on 
immortality.  Live  then,  I  do  beseech  you,  friends, 
with  a  bias  toward  the  stars,  so  that,  whenever  the 
summons  comes,  whether  at  the  second  or  the  third 


372  ABHORRENCE  OF  EVIL. 

watch  of  the  night,  it  shall  find  you  plumed  and  ready 
for  your  upward  flight.  Then  shall  you  mount  at 
death  as  birds  on  some  summer  morning  sail  up, 
cleaving  the  dark  mist  to  find  the  sunshine  overhead ; 
and  when  they  find  it,  the  warm  rays  of  orange  and 
the  clear  fields  of  blue,  the  cool  ether  and  the  far- 
reaching  sky,  hovering  on  joyous  wing,  their  perch  on 
earth  forgot,  they  pour  their  gladness  forth  in  song. 
Hail  to  that  mode  of  life  which  makes  our  death  the 
hour  of  sunrise,  —  the  hour  of  elevation  and  of  song ! 
And,  O  thou  Purifier  of  the  gross !  purge  out  our 
heaviness,  impart  to  us  thy  buoyancy,  that,  with  a 
song  unsung  till  then,  we  may  at  death  soar  upward, 
and  forever  dwell  with  thee. 


Date  Due 


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